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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29882934">Safe Haven</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_autore_Passionale/pseuds/L_autore_Passionale'>L_autore_Passionale</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Home [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Wayne loves his children, Bruce is a king, Family, Found Family, Gen, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling Tim Drake, His Children Love Him, Home, Hurt/Comfort, Sionis is a cruel master, Slade is a cruel master, Whump, ish, the boys are servants in Sionis’ manor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:20:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,538</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29882934</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_autore_Passionale/pseuds/L_autore_Passionale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a little waif stealing food from the table. Schmoozing with the leaders of neighboring kingdoms and a few members of nobility, Bruce shifted until he could see the boy a little better. Thin—too thin—with a bruised lip. Wary eyes looked every which way until he deemed the coast clear and then another roll disappeared in his pocket. That made three.</p><p>Bruce followed the boy’s progress, the only source of interest he could find at the gala. There was another bruise around his wrists, and he could not stop himself. Time to meet the little urchin who had so captured his attention.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bruce Wayne &amp; Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson &amp; Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd &amp; Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake &amp; Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake &amp; Dick Grayson &amp; Jason Todd &amp; Damian Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Home [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>340</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Content Warnings: Degrading language, unwanted touches (hair petting and shoulder rub), concern a character has suffered more such abuse, and creepy Slade. There is nothing graphic, and the concerns are touched on with vague language. If you notice anything else I should warn for, please let me know.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a little waif stealing food from the table. Schmoozing with the leaders of neighboring kingdoms and a few members of nobility, Bruce shifted until he could see the boy a little better. Thin—too thin—with a bruised lip. Wary eyes looked every which way until he deemed the coast clear and then another roll disappeared in his pocket. That made three.</p><p>One of the nobles mentioned a shortage of food in his province, and when another made a joke about that not affecting the noble’s girth, Bruce gave a laugh so fake he made himself shiver in disgust. Not that anyone noticed. </p><p>Except the child, he saw out of the corner of his eye, who looked at him in disbelief before shaking his head and stealing another roll. That one, he stuffed into his mouth. Either the boy was stocking up food for later, or he had a friend he was trying to feed. Bruce followed the boy’s progress, the only source of interest he could find at the gala. </p><p>Aaaand there went a strip of beef. The little thief was good. There was another bruise around his wrists, and Bruce could not stop himself. Time to meet the little urchin who had so captured his attention.</p><p>…</p><p>Jason was dead. Jason was so dead. So, <em> so </em>dead. The apple slices he’d just swiped from the table rested heavily on his tongue when King Bruce cleared his throat and looked down at him, suddenly blocking his path.</p><p>“Follow me.”</p><p>The king turned around and strode down a side hallway, leaving Jason with two choices: follow and be punished or try to run and be punished even <em> worse </em>for disobeying the king. So, he didn’t really have a choice. Sighing deeply, he trudged after the man who could have Jason’s hands chopped off with a snap of his fingers. Or maybe he’d give him the brand of a thief instead. </p><p>The king led him through another corridor and then passed through a doorway into...the kitchen? Perhaps he was going to have Jason work in here the rest of the night to make up for stealing his food. Jason looked around the space, watching the workers bustle around in curiosity.</p><p>The king turned around, head cocking as he looked down at Jason again. </p><p>“Hungry?”</p><p>The king’s voice rumbled deep in his chest. He was tall with dark hair that fell over his forehead, and his shoulders were broad. The fine clothes draped over his body were the cleanest, softest looking things Jason had ever seen, and that included his master’s own fancy outfits.</p><p>“No, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“Would that be because you’ve already eaten two rolls, six slices of apple, two strips of beef, and one cupcake?”</p><p>Jason gaped up at the man, who had the audacity to <em> smirk </em>at him.</p><p>“It’s not stealing! That food is out for everyone to eat!”</p><p>The king kneeled in front of him (Jason’s mind stalled at that. The king. Kneeling. In front of him) and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Are you an invited guest, child?”</p><p>Jason’s eyes dropped to his feet. “Not exactly, Your Majesty.”</p><p>The king hummed. “Who are you accompanying tonight?”</p><p>“Count Sionis.” He scuffed his toes against the ground, the ill-fitting shoe wobbling on his foot. </p><p>“And who else were you taking food for, little one?”</p><p>“Don’t...punish them, too. Please, Your Majesty,” he whispered. “I beg you. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I can work for your staff until we leave; I’ll...I’ll do whatever you want!” </p><p>“Hush, child. Hush.” The king held both of his shoulders now, and he gently shook Jason until he stopped pleading. “You’re not in trouble; you have my word. I’m simply curious. Will you tell me?”</p><p>When Jason clenched his teeth and hesitated, the king added, “They won’t be in trouble, either, little one.”</p><p>He had no choice, again. His king had made a request and he, a lowly servant, could not deny him. “For my brothers at home. We’re not really related, but we...we’re all that each of us has. Dickie, Timmy, and Dami.”</p><p>“How old are they?”</p><p>“Dickie’s seventeen. Timmy and Dami are younger, thirteen and nine.”</p><p>“They each serve Sionis?” At Jason’s nod, he asked, “Why are they not here?”</p><p>Jason’s lips twisted together, the worry that had eaten at him all day returning tenfold. “Dami’s too young. Timmy’s in charge of the count’s records, and he didn’t want him to stop working on his current project—he’s really smart, sir. And….”</p><p>There was a crease between the king’s eyebrows. “And what about your older brother?”</p><p>Jason’s hands curled into fists. “Dami made a mistake. He dropped our master’s food. Dickie took the punishment for him.”</p><p>The king’s jaw ticked as he hummed again. “How badly was he hurt?”</p><p>“Master whipped him really badly, sir. But, but nothing he didn’t deserve!” This could be a trap! He could get Dickie in worse trouble, or himself! What if—</p><p>“Stop. Easy, child.” And despite Jason not saying he was scared, the king seemed to realize that. “You have nothing to be afraid of. This conversation will stay between us.”</p><p>Jason took a deep breath and deliberately relaxed his body.</p><p>“What is your name, child?”</p><p>“Jason. My name is Jason.”</p><p>The king sat back on his heels, frowning a little at Jason. “So you were taking food for you and your brothers.”</p><p>“Yes, Your Majesty.” </p><p>Pushing to his feet, the king curled a hand around Jason’s shoulders and pulled him further into the kitchen. “Alfred?”</p><p>“Your Majesty?”</p><p>“Will you find me a small sack?”</p><p>An older man standing near the fire bowed a little and walked to a cabinet, rummaging for a short moment before he pulled out a small cloth sack. </p><p>“If you could put a few potatoes and apples, maybe a chunk of bread in it, I would be grateful.”</p><p>“Of course, Your Majesty.” </p><p>Jason found himself gaping back up at the king, speechless at what was happening. Alfred passed the sack to King Bruce, who in turn handed it over to Jason.</p><p>“There you go, Jaylad. Make sure your brothers eat slowly. You, too.”</p><p>“That’s...it?”</p><p>“I can give you another potato,” King Bruce said, staring at the bag with a small frown, “but you might have a little trouble hiding everything beneath your jacket. Which was the point of sneaking the food, I thought.”</p><p>Jason flushed. “No. I mean. Thank you. But you don’t...want anything from me?” After all, that’s what he thought the king was leading him back here for—to take what Jason had stolen from the table out of his flesh. Or worse. </p><p>King Bruce’s face darkened for a long moment. “No, child. I have food. You need it. There’s nothing I want from you but to enjoy it. And to promise me that if you get hurt again or need something, you let me know.” He ducked his head down, blue eyes piercing into his soul.</p><p>“I mean it, Jason. If you need something, if you need help, <em> let me know.” </em></p><p>He seemed serious, Jason thought. Dazedly, he nodded. The king smiled and gently squeezed his shoulder. </p><p>“Very good. Now out you go. There are other children playing outside. Go join them.” He stood with a wink and left Jason staring after him in surprise. </p><p>“Child.”</p><p>Jason turned to look at the man King Bruce had called Alfred. “Sir?”</p><p>Alfred smiled and bent down until they were on more equal standing. “How about a small piece of cake before you head out to play? I made a new recipe today, and I need an honest opinion. Will you do me the respect?”</p><p>Jason nodded slowly, a smile growing on his face. “Absolutely, sir!”</p><p>Chuckling, Alfred stood and brushed his hands against his pants. “Call me Alfred, young man.” </p><p>He held out a hand that Jason stared at for a long moment. Feeling like he was in a dream, Jason shook Alfred’s hand like an equal—he, a lowly servant to a count, an equal to a trusted servant in the king’s castle!—and followed where he led.</p><p>…</p><p>Bruce smiled when he finally caught sight of the person he’d been scouring the fair for. As soon as he’d seen Sionis in the distance, he’d begun to look, his search paying off when Jason’s lithe form appeared at the area where a troupe of acrobats was performing.</p><p>“I had wondered if you would be accompanying the count to this fair.”</p><p>Jason spun around and immediately dropped into a bow. “Your Majesty!”</p><p>“Jaylad.” He smiled. “Enjoying the show?”</p><p>Jason nodded. “The clowns are pretty good, but the acrobats have nothing on Dickie!”</p><p>“Really?” He gestured for Jason to walk with him, and he watched as the boy puffed up at the honor. </p><p>“Really. Dickie used to be a part of a circus. He, uh....” Bruce watched his sunny smile drop. “His parents died in a trick gone wrong, but he never stopped practicing. I don’t think anyone is as good as he is.”</p><p>Why did that spark a memory? He eased around the crowd enjoying the festival, guiding Jason with a hand to the shoulder every once in a while. “What group was Dickie a part of?”</p><p>“The Flying Graysons. It was a family act.”</p><p>“I remember,” he said slowly. “The ropes snapped. There was a boy on the platform, waiting to join them for the act. That must have been your Dickie. I tried to find him after that.”</p><p>“Our master took him in that night.” Blue-green eyes flashed up to him, speaking more than he said aloud.</p><p>“You may speak freely, Jaylad.”</p><p>“I wish you had taken him in. I know that means we wouldn’t have him now, but he deserves….”</p><p>Bruce had led them to a quieter area of the fair, where there were less people rushing past and jostling them. He knelt down in front of this child that was stealing his heart like he’d stolen the food at the banquet a month before. “What does he deserve, Jason?”</p><p>“He deserves…. He always takes care of us. Often to his own detriment.” Bruce’s eyebrows lifted at the word, surprised the young servant knew what it meant. “It would’ve been nice if he’d had a safe place to live. I know you and I have only talked once before, but I can tell. You’re fair. Kind.”</p><p>The boy shrugged and shoved his hair off his face. Dark bruises ringed his wrists, and Bruce’s heart clenched. He took one of the boy’s hands in his, staring down at the marks left from too-tight chains.</p><p>“It looks like Dickie isn’t the only one who suffers,” he said quietly.</p><p>Jason shrugged again, the movement more jerky and stiff than the last time. “Me and Dickie are the big brothers. We’ve gotta take care of the little ones and each other.”</p><p>Blood boiling at the man who should be caring for the children in his service, Bruce had to take a deep breath before he asked, “What happened for you to carry these wounds?”</p><p>A spark of anger lit the boy’s eyes. “Timmy made a mistake. <em> One </em>mistake in the hundreds of pages he worked on. Our master forced him to work several days and nights in a row with little sleep and food. He made an arithmetic mistake. That was it.”</p><p>“And you offered to take his punishment.”</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>The cute popping of the “p” couldn’t distract Bruce from what was important. “Where else are you hurt, child?”</p><p>“You don’t have to worry about me,” Jason said, a little smile on his face. “I heal fast.”</p><p>“Jason.” He tilted his chin down to show how serious he was, and Jason’s smile grew even as it stayed soft and sweet.</p><p>“The count chose to deny me food for a few days and have me beaten. All that’s left are bruises.”</p><p>Bruce studied his face for a lie, but Jason kept his expression open and honest. “I have to say, I’m disappointed in you.”</p><p>Hurt flashed across his face. “My king?”</p><p>Warmth filled him at the more personal address, used to show deep loyalty. Bruce gently squeezed his arm and smiled. “I told you if you needed anything that you were to find me. And you did not do so.”</p><p>At this, Jason’s smile returned, cocky and sure. “Forgive me. I couldn’t exactly break out of the chains to come and knock on your gates.”</p><p>“Details,” Bruce said, waving the words away, and Jason laughed. Bruce smiled at the happy sound, but it was too quickly cut off.</p><p>“Jason, where are you?!”</p><p>The boy stiffened. “Excuse me, Your Majesty. The count calls for me. I must go.”</p><p>“Jason! Now!”</p><p>“Until next time, young Jason.” He ruffled the boy’s hair and watched him run off. </p><p>It was time for him to enact the next step in his plan. </p><p>…</p><p>Roman Sionis read the missive from the king, grinning in satisfaction. “Richard!”</p><p>The young man entered the office and kneeled in front of him. “Sir?”</p><p>Roman put his hand on Dick’s head, running his fingers through the thick, soft hair. “His Majesty Bruce Wayne has requested my presence in his court at the end of the month. We’ll be gone for a fortnight. Make the preparations. Choose two of your outfit to accompany me. You’ll stay behind.”</p><p>“Yes sir,” Richard responded, holding himself still. </p><p>Roman kept petting his head. The boy shivered; Roman could feel it even if Richard hid it well. He stepped back, deliberately wiping his hand against his shirt.</p><p>“Filthy circus trash,” he said, voice pitched loud enough for the boy to hear. When Richard flinched, he bared his teeth triumphantly. “You may go.”</p><p>Dick was up and out of the room in a flash. He balled his shaking hands into fists, striding down the corridors until he was outside the records room. He knocked twice on the door, and then again before he entered the room. Tim sat behind the desk, rubbing his tired eyes before leaning back in his chair. </p><p>“Sleeeep,” he moaned. </p><p>Jason and Damian poked their heads around the desk to grin at him brightly, and Dick sighed, tremors disappearing in the presence of his brothers. </p><p>Books were stacked high on Tim’s desk and the floor, granting little spots just big enough for two small, nimble bodies to hide away in. They were hiding spots Damian and Jason had, unfortunately, needed several times.</p><p>“Hello, little birds,” he said to his family.</p><p>They each greeted him back as he crossed behind the desk to rub Tim’s shoulders. “You can take a break, Timmy. He’s busy right now.”</p><p>With a clunk, Tim’s head hit the desk. He was already snoring, and Dick smiled down at him fondly. The smile grew when he looked at Jason and Damian. “I have good news.”</p><p>They perked up, scooting closer to lean against his legs. “What is it?” Damian asked, head tilting just a little to the right.</p><p>“The count is going to be visiting the king in two weeks.”</p><p>“King Bruce!” Jason exclaimed. “You’re going to love him!”</p><p>Dick’s smile shrunk a little. “Well, we can’t all go, little brother. He told me I could choose two of you. So since you’re familiar with the location and the people,” he winked, “I thought you could go with Timmy.”</p><p>Damian pouted a little, and Dick stopped rubbing Tim’s shoulders to crouch down to his littlest brother’s eye level. “I thought you and I could have a little one-on-one time while he’s gone. Maybe you can ride that horse you’ve been eyeing in the stables.”</p><p>Damian’s eyes lit up, a smile stretching his face. “Truly?”</p><p>“Truly.” He chucked Damian on the chin before nodding at Tim. “And this will give him a break from the dust and the sleepless nights. At least, I hope. The count will be busy with the king, so maybe, Jason, the two of you will get a little time to yourselves.”</p><p>When Jason smiled wider, he leveled a look at him. “Make sure you follow the rules and do your jobs. At home or away, you know the count is not afraid to punish where he sees fit.”</p><p>“This isn’t my first trip,” Jason said, crossing his arms and frowning at Dick. </p><p>“I know, Little Wing. But I’ll always warn you, and I’ll always worry. It’s what big brothers do.”</p><p>…</p><p>There was another boy with Jason, Bruce noted as he welcomed Sionis into his castle. A boy with black hair and blue eyes and who looked as though a stiff wind would blow him over. Did the vile count not feed <em> any </em>of his charges? A closer glance at the new child showed shadows so deep under his eyes, they may very well have been bruises. </p><p>Ridiculous. As soon as he finished moving his chess pieces into place, Jason and his brothers would be in Bruce’s protection. </p><p>“Alfie!”</p><p>“Jason, my boy! I missed having you as a taste tester. Perhaps you’ll find your way to the kitchen to assist me once in a while?”</p><p>Bruce continued speaking to Sionis and the other nobles and advisors he’d invited to the castle, but kept one ear open for Alfred and the children.</p><p>“Oh, definitely! Timbo, this is Alfred. He’s the...well, he does a little bit of everything. He’s the head of King Bruce’s staff. Alfred, this is Timothy, my brother.”</p><p>The two greeted each other, and a flash of Alfred’s eyes in Bruce’s direction assured him they would be under his protection during the visit. Which wasn’t a surprise. Alfred had been behind Bruce’s plans before Bruce had even told him about them, barging into his chambers the night they’d been introduced to Jason.</p><p>“You must do something!” he’d demanded, to which Bruce had immediately said, “Here’s the plan so far.”</p><p>Bruce’s spy had since brought him information of an alliance Sionis was trying to forge with Count Lex Luthor in Metropolis, the kingdom to the north. Little did they know, Bruce had been able to alert the leader of the kingdom, King Clark Kent, and the two were forming a new charter highlighting the punishment for those found to be traitors. Clark was in the midst of approaching Queen Diana of Themyscira to see if she wanted to be involved, also.</p><p>As far as Sionis’ cruel treatment of his servants—after scouring the law, Bruce was horrified to find there was no true guidance on how to treat those in another person’s employ. Slavery was outlawed, yes, but it left a lot of leeway on how servants could be treated. It was an exploitation of a loophole that Bruce had since begun to immediately eradicate. </p><p>And once they had proof of Sionis’ betrayal, in addition to the evidence of Sionis’ abuse against his workers that would defy the new laws Bruce and his council were drafting, the man’s title would not only be stripped, but he would be arrested and no longer able to harm a <em> hair </em> on those boys’ heads.</p><p><em> Soon</em>. Bruce only had to smile into Sionis’ face for a short time more, and then those children would be safe. </p><p>…</p><p>“You’re up late, little one.”</p><p>Tim spun around, saw who was speaking, and immediately dropped in a deep bow. “Your Majesty. My apologies. I couldn’t sleep, and I saw this painting earlier—I’m familiar with the artist—and I wanted to get a better look. I didn’t mean to bother you. Please excuse me, I’ll go back to bed.”</p><p>He shut his mouth with a snap and, still bowing, made a face at the floor. He was tired, yes, but he hadn’t realized he was word vomit tired. A warm chuckle met his ears, and Tim blinked again. Was the king...laughing...at him?</p><p>“Yes, I am, but not in a mean way, I promise.” </p><p>Oh. He was still talking. Out loud.</p><p>“Yes, you are.”</p><p>Wonderful.</p><p>Another chuckle, this one longer. Tim resolutely thought <em> nothing.  </em></p><p>“Little one, what’s your name?”</p><p>“Timothy,” he answered quickly. </p><p>“And when was the last time you slept, Timothy?” </p><p>Hands wrapped around his shoulders and lifted him from the bow. Which was nice, because he was still sore from the walk to the castle.</p><p>“You <em> walked?!” </em></p><p>Tim stared at the king, wondering over the similarities to Damian that Jason had quietly speculated on with Tim late one night, and nodded at the question. “Of course. We are not knights, Jason and I. We are not worth the horses for such a trek. And the wagons were full of the count’s belongings.”</p><p>The king’s eyes narrowed; his lips firmed. Tim had the distinct impression he was angry.</p><p>“I am.”</p><p>Tim dropped his forehead into his hands. Again? Really? What was his <em> life. </em></p><p>“You didn’t answer me. When was the last time you slept?”</p><p>Tim twitched his lips to the side as he thought. “I got a couple hours last night, sir.”</p><p>“And before that?”</p><p>Tim watched the torchlight flicker over the king’s face as he answered. “Maybe four days? I needed to finish up the purchase records before we left. I took a couple naps during that time.”</p><p>The king closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Whatever it was he muttered, Tim couldn’t really hear, but it sounded like a plea for patience. </p><p>“Okay, partner. How about this? I was going to get some hot chocolate. Why don’t you join me, and we’ll see if that helps you relax enough to fall asleep.”</p><p>Tim crooked his head. “I’ve never had hot chocolate before, Your Majesty.”</p><p>The king wrapped an arm around Tim’s shoulders, to his shock. This was the <em> king. </em>Timothy was a worthless child whose parents had wanted to be free of him so much they’d given him to Sionis. He wasn’t worth the king’s time or kindness.</p><p>“Oh, Timmy,” the king rumbled, sorrow obvious in the tone of his voice. “You are so very wrong.”</p><p>He stumbled, and the king steadied him. “Come. Let’s get a warm drink, and maybe we can sneak something from the cupboards without Alfred noticing.”</p><p>Cheeks burning at his loose lips, Tim nonetheless scoffed. “I only met him today, but even then, I already know nothing gets past Alfred without him noticing.”</p><p>“Jason was right; you <em> are </em>smart. But I’m a fan of science and experimentation. So the hypothesis is: if we sneak in, both of us keeping a lookout for Alfred, then we will be successful in making our drinks and getting a snack.”</p><p>Tim laughed quietly, feeling himself relax a little from the stiff posture he had been holding himself in. Jason had talked nearly nonstop about his interactions with the king, short though they were. He’d said the man was kind and funny, and that it didn’t seem like the king looked down on him. Tim had reserved forming an opinion on the royal until he had the opportunity to meet him, <em> if </em>he ever did. </p><p>“You want to lay a wager on how successful we will be?”</p><p>Tim licked his lips, eyes darting up to the king’s, and then he looked forward again. Jason had been right. Their king was a good man. “No bet, my king. Alfred sees all and knows all. Jason tried to sneak an extra piece of bread after lunch, and he came away with a smacked hand. Not that Alfred didn’t give him the piece, anyways.”</p><p>The king sighed. “Alas, I’ve been in young Jason’s boat many times. It’s like the man has eyes in the back of his head.” He shook his head, a rueful look on his face that made Tim laugh again.</p><p>Reaching the door to the kitchen, the king held a finger to his lips. They both crouched down, looking one way and then the other. Slowly, he turned the handle, looking back at Tim and waggling his eyebrows, and pushed the door open.</p><p>“Your Majesty. Timothy. Your drinks will be ready momentarily. You’ll find some fruit and cheese at the table for you while you wait.”</p><p>Tim sucked in a breath and then bent over, his peals of laughter ringing throughout the kitchen. “Ex-experiment f-failed!” he gasped. “Back to the drawing board!”</p><p>“Whatever are you talking about?” Alfred turned from the pot he was stirring, cocking an eyebrow at the two of them.</p><p>“Nothing!” the king said quickly. “Look, Timmy, let’s get some food!”</p><p>A hand on his shoulder guided him to a chair, and Tim wiped his eyes as he grinned at the king. “It was a noble attempt, my king. Maybe next time,” he whispered.</p><p>“I’ll let you be the one to come up with the plan for that,” he mumbled back, nudging the plate towards Tim.</p><p><em> Ooh</em>, <em> grapes</em>! Tim thought, taking a few and savoring them. Last time he’d had these, Dick had snuck out to the market to buy them each a bunch, using coins he’d painstakingly gathered for <em> weeks. </em>And for his kindness, Dick had lost his own share, sacrificed when the count had stumbled upon them and his brother had had to offer them as a gift.</p><p>“Does that happen often?”</p><p>Tim froze mid chew, eyes darting up from the grapes to the king, to Alfred, and back. “Still?”</p><p>“Yes. You’re very tired, partner. We’ll get you to bed soon. But does that happen often? For you and Dickie and your other brothers?”</p><p>Instead of answering, Tim put down the food and folded his hands in his lap. “My king, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about the times my brothers and I have gotten in trouble. The count is fair in his actions towards us. Whatever my sleep-addled brain is saying, please pay it no mind.”</p><p>There was no one else in the kitchen, not that he could tell. But there may well be one of the count’s court in the hallway outside. Or an ally of Sionis’ ready to pass on news that a servant in his court was not loyal. </p><p>It wasn’t paranoia since it had happened to them before.</p><p>“If you’ll excuse me, please, I should leave you to enjoy your night—”</p><p>“Easy, young one. Neither of us will pass on what you say.”</p><p>“Of course,” he said lightly, eyes bouncing between the two of them and then to the door, the windows, the side entrance….</p><p>The king closed his eyes as if pained. “Alfred. Make sure we’re alone,” he said softly.</p><p>The man moved without a word, quickly checking the hallways beyond each door and even closing the windows before he returned to the pot and poured two drinks. “We’re alone,” he said, placing the cup in front of Tim first and then the king.</p><p>Tim blinked at the break in protocol, but the king didn’t seem to mind, thanking Alfred and gesturing for him to sit, too.</p><p>“Timothy, I would like you to be honest with me. Do you and your brothers get enough to eat?” </p><p>The king’s warm blue eyes did not leave Tim’s face, studying him as he thought. Thought about the times he’d been punished with no food, the times his brothers were forced to go without. The times they <em> were </em>fed, and Tim still went to bed with his stomach caved in and aching for even a crumb of moldy bread. Of the times their food had been taken from them, like the treats Dick tried to always get for them. </p><p>But the punishment they’d received whenever they even <em> hinted </em>at dissatisfaction with their master was severe. Did he want to risk that by being honest? What if this was a trap? </p><p>But Jason trusted the king. Jason had even confessed to Tim, late one night, that he had also spoken ill of Sionis, and the king had never passed on that information. </p><p>The king waited patiently, never looking away from Tim, never fidgeting. </p><p>For better or worse, Tim trusted him, too.</p><p>“No, my king.” Nearly soundless, the words went no further than their small trio.</p><p>The king leaned forward. “You were very brave to tell me that, Timothy.”</p><p>“I could be beaten and spend a week in the dungeon for doing so, and condemn my brothers to the stocks for two days.”</p><p>Alfred, Tim noticed, curled his hands into fists at the words.</p><p>The king slowly nodded. “I will not betray the trust you’ve given me. I do have more questions, though. Will you answer them?”</p><p>Tim’s heart pounded, and he licked lips that had gone dry. </p><p>“You won’t get in trouble for anything we speak of, child,” he said, nudging the cup closer and encouraging him to take a drink.</p><p>Chocolate, rich and smooth and warm, met his taste buds and flowed down his throat. He nearly melted in his chair, his wide eyes flying to Alfred in wonder. “This...this is amazing!”</p><p>“Thank you, young sir. It is one of the king’s favorites.” Alfred smiled gently, his hands slowly flattening to press against the table.</p><p>Tim hummed and took another sip, before setting down the cup with a faint <em> clink. </em>He pressed his lips together to keep his thoughts safe while he considered his situation. For whatever reason the king wanted to know, he faced the same dilemma that Jason had—the king had asked, and Tim was a nobody who had no right to deny him.</p><p>“What would you like to know, my king?” he asked quietly.</p><p>“Why don’t you tell me about your siblings? Jason has told me a little—they seem like good brothers.”</p><p>Nodding slowly, Tim responded, “The best. Dickie’s the ultimate big brother. He takes care of each of us. He interacts the most with the count, besides Jason. He tries to keep us out of the count’s sight and attention. He’s funny and talented and, and the sunniest person you’ll ever meet. He loves us with every inch of his soul. He’s…. Everything about him is warm.”</p><p>The king smiled. “He seems like the best big brother.”</p><p>“He is. We are so lucky to have him.”</p><p>“And what about Jason?”</p><p>“Jason’s a little thief,” Tim said, a smile flashing across his face. It was gone in the next instant. “He tried to steal food from the market when he was seven and was arrested. He was nearly executed, but the count paid his bond. Don’t think badly of him, please,” he begged, suddenly worried he may have sullied the king’s impression of his brother. “His parents were dead, and he was on his own. He couldn’t find a place to work, and he was starving.”</p><p>He folded his hands around the cup, gripping it tightly to quell the nerves that doubled at his possible misstep.</p><p>“Timmy. Timmy, breathe.” The king’s fingers brushed his before he pulled back. “Jason had no choice. Of course I don’t think badly of him. He was trying to survive. He still is. The only thing your story does is enforce my belief that he is a fighter.”</p><p>Tim’s shoulders slumped. “He really is. He’s so smart, too. He reads everything he can get his hands on. Whenever one of us is sick, he’ll stay up late to read to us—he’ll act out the story and use different voices and everything. He’s funny and loves fiercely.”</p><p>The king hummed and leaned back in his chair. He took a long drink from his cup and then shot Alfred a look. </p><p>“Yes, yes, I’ll get you more. The king has a sweet tooth a mile long, young Timothy,” Alfred said. He pushed to his feet and bustled around, stirring the pot and then bringing it back to the table to fill up the king’s cup, and then Tim’s, too.</p><p>“Thank you,” he said softly, drawing the cup to his chest and breathing in the scent. </p><p>“Will you tell me about Damian?” </p><p>Tim huffed, a smile on his face even as he shook his head. “The tiny prince. He’s as prickly as he is small. He’s only nine.”</p><p>“Is he tinier than you?”</p><p>Tim tilted his chin up. “I haven’t had my growth spurt yet. Dick said it’ll happen at any time. But yes, he’s smaller than I am. He has difficulty letting people in. I think I was the last of us that he accepted as family. He’s...he loves deeply, but he has a hard time showing it. Despite that, he’s so sweet and so nurturing. He tries <em> so hard; </em>he only wants to be accepted, but the count is especially hard on him.”</p><p>“Where did he come from?”</p><p>“Apparently he was as wanted as I was. It was a man from his own family who left him with the count when he was only three.” He stared down into the cup, brushing his thumb against the handle. “I think he may have come from nobility. Or at least, he wasn’t a servant. His clothes were well-made, and he wasn’t used to working.”</p><p>That he looked similar to the king, Tim kept to himself. Whatever that story, whatever Damian’s origins, Tim didn’t know. Nor was it appropriate to point out a servant's likeness to royalty. His eyes could be gouged out for making the observation. That would be the count’s punishment, at least. He didn’t know what the king’s would be, and he didn’t really want to push him and find out.</p><p>“The count put him to work as a three year old?”</p><p>“Mm-hm.” He nodded once. “Dick took him under his wing immediately, but it was a rough transition for him.”</p><p>He set the drink down and leaned heavily on the table. The king opened his mouth, only to shut it when Alfred cleared his throat. Tim blinked long and drooped a little before he shook himself. </p><p>“Think you’ll be able to sleep, partner?”</p><p>Tim’s jaw cracked with his yawn. “I think so.”</p><p>“Then up we go.”</p><p>Tim’s eyes flew open when he was lifted up in the air—when did he close them? And who was picking him up?  </p><p>“Your Majesty?” That was a squeak—he absolutely did squeak the words. Wow. <em> Good show, Tim. </em></p><p>The king’s chest rumbled with his chuckle. “It’s okay, Timmy. I’ll get you back to your room.”</p><p>“But you. I…. My king?”</p><p>“Relax, Timmy. This is my pleasure to take care of you.” The king looked down and winked. “Perhaps we should try another experiment in two nights? Same time, same place. You can bring Jason. I think he’ll like the hot chocolate, don’t you?”</p><p>“Oh, he’ll go <em> nuts </em>for it,” Tim grinned. Feeling quite daring, he leaned his head against the king’s chest, hearing his heart beat steadily as he carried Tim back to the room he and Jason were sharing. “But Alfred will totally know again.”</p><p>“Shh. Your doubts are noted, but you have to keep an open mind. We’re doing it for <em> science, </em>Timmy!”</p><p>He giggled as they entered the small bedroom, and Jason stirred and sat up. “Timmy? Your...Your <em> Majesty</em>?” He scrambled to stand, but got caught in the blanket. </p><p>The king set Tim down gently before quickly crossing the space to Jason’s bed. “Easy, Jaylad. Don’t get up.”</p><p>“But!”</p><p>“Everything’s fine. Lay back down. Timmy will fill you in later, okay?”</p><p>Jason slowly laid back down, wide eyes latched on the king in surprise and wonder. </p><p>“Good night, Jaylad.” Timmy watched with his own wonder as the king pulled the blanket up to Jason’s chin and then patted his shoulder. </p><p>The awe grew when the king turned to Tim and <em> did the same exact thing.  </em></p><p>“Close your eyes, partner. Sleep. Both of you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p>“Thank you, my king,” Tim whispered around the lump in his throat. Jason repeated the words. There was something twisting in his chest—desperate hope and harsh, fearful reality fighting for dominance. </p><p>“Boy, Timmy,” Jason said around a yawn. “You better tell me <em> everything </em>tomorrow.”</p><p>“Deal,” he muttered, choosing to worry about the fear another day and just enjoy the warmth tonight. He closed his eyes and was out in an instant.</p><p>…</p><p>Tim was right. Jason adored the hot chocolate. They sat with the king and Alfred for hours that night, talking about everything and nothing. About their brothers. About their lives with Sionis. About their favorite food and memories and books. </p><p>Tim didn’t know why they were so lucky as to get this opportunity—safe, away from Sionis, and cared for and fed by the king and his most trusted servant—but he was incredibly grateful for it.</p><p>...</p><p>“Something’s bothering you today, Jason. What is it?”</p><p>Jason looked up from the dough he was kneading and shrugged at Alfred before returning to his work. Tim was putting a batch of bread in the oven and looked over at Jason with a little frown. Great. Now he’d worried both of them.</p><p>“Jason?”</p><p>“Why is he doing this?” he burst out.</p><p>“Who is he, and what is this?” Alfred asked. He wiped his hands on a towel and leaned back against the counter, studying Jason with that all-knowing glint in his eye.</p><p>Yeah, Jason had no doubt he knew exactly what Jason was asking, but he still verbalized it. “The king. Why is he being so nice to us? I mean, he made sure I had food the first time I met him. He’s been...<em>kind. </em>He even,” Jason could feel his cheeks go pink, but kept talking, “tucked us in the other night.”</p><p>“The only person who has ever done that for us is Dick,” Tim said quietly, coming over to stand beside Jason. His shoulder brushed against his, and Jason took a deep breath at the reminder of his support. </p><p>“He’s the king. We’re the servants. Why does he act like we matter? Why does he ask about Dick and Damian?”</p><p>Alfred gave a small smile. “Because he cares about you both. Because he cares about Dick and Damian, despite never meeting them.”</p><p>“It doesn’t make sense, Alfred. He’s the king. We’re not important.”</p><p>“To His Majesty,” Alfred responded to Tim’s statement, “you <em> are </em> important. He has not married yet, and he has no children. I think, if I am so bold as to speak to his thoughts and feelings, that he views you as young men who <em> could </em>be his sons. He was smitten with you the first time you met, young Jason, and intrigued by the brothers you spoke of. </p><p>“And then,” Alfred continued, “he met you, Timothy, and was just as smitten. I feel quite confident that though he has not met Dick and Damian yet, he is already very fond of them.”</p><p>“That’s all well and good, Alfie, but it doesn’t make a difference. He may be...fond of us, but we’re not his kids. And as soon as the count is finished here, we go right back to the lion’s den. It’s confusing.”</p><p>“It’s wonderful, his consideration, but it hurts,” Tim said even more quietly. His eyes darted around the space, checking, Jason knew, for any eavesdroppers. “I feel hope, because he acts like he cares for us. But as soon as we leave, we won’t have his protection. We won’t have his care. Heck, we won’t even have food.”</p><p>Alfred stretched his arms across the counter to rest a hand atop both Jason’s and Tim’s. “It pains me to hear what you and your brothers have suffered. I am truly sorry. You all deserve the best that life can offer. I give you this advice, my children. Soak up what His Majesty is bestowing on you while you are here, and share it with your brothers. And do not lose hope. One day, you will live a life you’ve only been able to dream about.”</p><p>Jason snorted, blinking away the tears in his eyes. “That’s a nice thought, Alfie. But none of us have been able to dream in years.”</p><p>…</p><p>“My king!” Jason, who poked his head out of the alcove he was hiding in, was bouncing on his toes as he looked at Bruce, exuberant and excited. </p><p>“Jaylad,” he said warmly. He bent in front of the boy, even as Jason bowed low to him. “I didn’t realize the count had been invited to this celebration.”</p><p>“He wasn’t. He had to bribe his way in,” he whispered, an impish grin lighting his face. </p><p>“The scandal!” Bruce responded, covering his mouth in fake horror. Jason covered his own mouth, too late to hide his smirk. “Are you on your own, or is one of your brothers along?”</p><p>“Only Timmy’s here. Dick tries to keep an extra eye on Damian—he worries something might happen without him being able to mother hen him, so since the count ordered him to stay home, he kept Dami with him. But he trusts Tim and I to handle ourselves and watch each other’s backs.” Jason shrugged. </p><p>Bruce ruffled his hair, smiling at the indignant squawk from the boy. “You guys <em> are </em>pretty mature. Except when you get a little sugar in you.”</p><p>“Hey—!”</p><p>“My king!” Timmy’s voice nearly squeaked, and Bruce laughed as he turned to greet him.</p><p>“Partner!” Squeezing the boy’s shoulder as he, too, bowed, Bruce nearly lost the smile when he saw the shadows beneath his eyes. “You’re still not sleeping, huh, Timmy?”</p><p>The boy scowled, while Jason laughed. “Told you he’d notice,” he teased.</p><p>“The count told me to finish the castle inventory before we left. I <em> couldn’t </em>sleep.”</p><p>“Tim, you’ve got to take care of yourself. If you—”</p><p>“No, my king. You misundersto—I mean, I wasn’t clear enough. He told me I couldn’t sleep. I was to finish before I left, which meant no meals or breaks until then.”</p><p>Bruce looked away from the boys, spotting Sionis when the crowd parted. Envisioned himself crossing the room and punching the smug grin from his face.... “I’m sorry, Timmy,” he finally said. “That’s not fair to you.”</p><p>Tim ducked his head a little. “I’m used to it. Besides, I got off easy. Jason here had to scrub the entire great hall and offices before we left.” He nudged Jason’s shoulder, and the boy rolled his eyes. </p><p>“Yeah, but unlike with you, Dick was able to sneak in and help me. The count kept a pretty close eye on you for those records. Damian helped, too,” he said, turning his attention to Bruce. “But it was at like, two in the morning. We spread out to work, and when we didn’t hear from him for a half hour and found him, he was half inside a giant vase, his legs sticking up in the air. Asleep.”</p><p>The two children laughed, Jason shaking his head. “The vase was the size of him, and he was trying to clean the inside of it. Drifted off while he was dusting it.”</p><p>Bruce forced a smile, unable to enjoy the cute image Jason had painted because of the situation it had happened in. Both Jason and Tim had been forced to work extremely long hours with no relief. Two other boys had stepped in to help, one <em> nine years old </em>who had fallen asleep because it was so early in the morning.</p><p>According to his sources, Sionis and Luthor would be solidifying their alliance soon, and Bruce would be <em> taking him out. </em>No longer would those boys be treated like slaves. No longer would they be abused and tortured. </p><p>Bruce felt so guilty leaving them with the count. As a royal, he was not used to finding his hands tied in such a way as to leave him helpless, especially helpless to save these precious children. But Bruce was still in the process of ratifying his new laws with his council, laws that would ensure servants would receive pay and have a list of practices their employers had to follow. Respect, food, and time off were among the first things Bruce had made sure to highlight. </p><p>As soon as the laws were passed or Bruce received the proof he needed of Sionis’ betrayal—whichever came first—Jason and his brothers would be <em> safe.  </em></p><p>But Bruce’s job tonight was to spend time with these boys and offer them an escape; to show them they deserved that and so much more.</p><p>“Have you guys sneaked anything from the buffets?”</p><p>“No.” Jason made a face. “There are too many attendants. They’ll send us away before we even get close.”</p><p>“Well.” Bruce straightened from his crouch and slapped his hands against his legs. “Guess it’s a good thing you’ve got me here. I’ll be right back.”</p><p>“Where’s he going?” he heard Tim ask, and Jason’s response was full of the same bouncing enthusiasm he’d had when he had first seen Bruce that night. </p><p>“He’s getting us food! I hope he gets some bread.”</p><p>Tim’s teasing response was lost to the noise of the crowd. Bruce shook his head with a smile—that boy was addicted to bread. And Tim was addicted to fruit—grapes and strawberries especially. He filled two plates with those treats and then a few additional things—slices of beef and chunks of chicken; roasted potatoes and cucumbers and cubes of cheese. And then he added a few truffles and cookies atop the meals, just because.</p><p>When he headed back, the count’s voice was coming from the alcove he had left Tim and Jason in. He slowed, listening, his blood boiling as he heard Sionis rip into the boys for being seen, for being useless and idle. Sionis, when he emerged from the alcove, had both boys’ ears pinched in his fingers—Jason on his right, Tim on his left. He began dragging them down a side hallway, and Jason’s eyes just happened to fall on Bruce as they moved. </p><p>Shame filled his face—his cheeks burned bright red, and he jerked his eyes away. </p><p>Bruce’s stomach twisted; his heart broke. He <em> hated </em> that Jason felt that way when he had nothing to <em> be </em> ashamed of. <em> Sionis </em>was the one who should be ashamed, not Jason. Not Tim, whose expression when he’d caught a quick glimpse, was carefully blank. </p><p>Bruce’s feet were frozen to the ground as Sionis took his boys away from him. In the next instant, he was surging forward, his King Brucie persona immediately draped over him. He staggered down the hallway.</p><p>“Lola! Oh, Lola, my sweet! Sionis!” he called out jovially. “My good man!” </p><p>The count turned to face him at the call, making the boys turn, too. He let go of the boys’ ears quick as a flash and dropped into a bow, Jason and Timmy immediately following suit. When Sionis stood tall again, however, his boys remained bent over.</p><p>“Your Majesty,” Sionis responded. </p><p>“Have you seen a blonde beauty come this way? We were supposed to rendezvous and, well, you know.” He smirked, smile growing a little more real when he saw Tim and Jason look at each other out of the corner of their suddenly wide eyes.</p><p>“No, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Bruce pouted. “Ah, her loss. Say, who’re these two?” He dipped his chin at the boys, and Sionis bared his teeth in a facsimile of a smile. </p><p>“My servants. I was just going to escort them outside, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“Do you have need of them for the night? My manservant grew sick before we left. I thought I would be able to handle myself for one night, but folding clothes is so <em> tedious</em>. And who will fetch me drink or food when I grow hungry or thirsty in the night? Can you imagine? Me, traveling the cold hallways on my own?</p><p>“Preposterous,” he chortled, shaking his head.</p><p>Sionis hid it well, but he was irritated. Bruce caught the way his hands curled into fists and his shoulders stiffened. But his king had asked for something that he was well able to provide. He had no choice.</p><p>“It would be my pleasure to share my help with you,” he said through clenched teeth. “Jason, Timothy, you will report back to me tomorrow morning, as soon as the king has no more use of you.”</p><p>“Yes sir,” they both murmured, still bowing. </p><p>“Thank you, Sionis. Boys, take these. My arms grow weary.” He passed the plates off to the children. “You know, I wonder if Lola wanted to meet me in the gardens. Come, let us go.”</p><p>Bruce led the way down the hallway, leaving Sionis behind. Bruce kept “Brucie” on until they were several corridors away. Finally shedding the persona felt like a breath of fresh air. He smiled down at the boys, who looked up at him in confusion.</p><p>“Did that really...just happen, my king?”</p><p>Bruce winked at Tim. “Your choice, kiddos. You want to go out to the garden? Or back to my suite?”</p><p>The two boys looked at each other, not quite scared but...wary, Bruce thought. </p><p>“My king,” Jason asked carefully, “what exactly do you want us to do for you tonight?”</p><p>His heart stuttered, and he immediately dropped to crouch in front of them. “Absolutely nothing. I want nothing from you. I only want to give you both a break from Sionis.” His mouth worked, uncertain how to phrase his question. “Have either of you ever…. Has anyone...<em>hurt </em>you. Like that?”</p><p>He hated that they knew what he meant without him specifying. He hated that they had needed to be cautious of that possibility occurring, even with him.</p><p>Jason shook his head. “No, my king.” But he looked at Tim quickly, and Bruce nudged his chin to draw his attention back to him.</p><p>“You’re not lying to me? Neither of you?”</p><p>They both shook their heads.</p><p>“And Damian?”</p><p>Another quick shake. “No, my king.”</p><p>“Dick?”</p><p>Silence, and Bruce’s heart sank. </p><p>“We’re not sure,” Tim finally said. “We don’t think so. But he’s drawn that kind of attention from others. And the count likes to keep him close. Like, we’ve walked in to see the count touching his hair and rubbing his arm. But in the next second, he’s back to snapping and insulting Dick. Dick always insists nothing worse has happened, though, whenever we ask.”</p><p>“I believe him. But what he’s suffered so far is bad enough.” Jason scuffed his foot against the ground. </p><p>“Agreed.” Bruce blew out a controlled breath. Whether or not he had proof of the count’s betrayal or the new laws had passed, in one month’s time he was taking the boys out of the count’s control. Legally or illegally, he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to leave them in that hellhole anymore. “Agreed,” he repeated. “Now, where would you like to go?”</p><p>Sheepishly, Tim stared up at him through his eyelashes. “Can we go to your suite and just...sit? You really don’t mind?”</p><p>“Absolutely not.” Hands on the boys’ shoulders, he led them through the hallways until they were back at the suite of rooms Oliver Queen had granted him for the night, which consisted of a bedroom, sitting room, and a large bathroom. He caught Jason and Tim both staring at the large soaking tub in amazement before turning their wide-eyed gaze to the rest of the rooms. They moved to sit on the floor, but Bruce <em> tsk</em>ed and pointed at the couch.</p><p>Tim and Jason glanced at each other and then perched carefully on the cushions. </p><p>“Eat. However much you want. Those plates are for you.”</p><p>They grinned at him, and Bruce tried not to focus on how heartbreaking their gratefulness was—how much it hurt to see them savor food that was, to him, commonplace. Normal. </p><p>He returned to the hall, calling for the servant and ordering a hot bath. Both boys were passably clean, but Bruce had seen them eye the tub, and he knew the benefits of simply soaking in warm water when one’s body was weary. They deserved a treat like this.</p><p>They deserved more, but <em> this, </em>at least, was something he could provide now.</p><p>“Heads or tails,” he asked Jason as he reentered the living room.</p><p>“Uh...heads?” </p><p>Bruce flipped a coin and showed the boys. “Timmy, you’re first. After you’re done, enjoy a nice, hot bath. There are soaps and salts in there. Use whatever and however much you want, just leave half to split with Jason.”</p><p>They gaped at him, the strawberry in Tim’s hand and the roll in Jason’s frozen at their lips. </p><p>“Are you...are you serious?”</p><p>“I am.”</p><p>“Truly?” Jason that time.</p><p>“Truly.”</p><p>Tim flapped his hand in Jason’s direction, face lighting up as he stared at Bruce. “We get a bath.”</p><p>“Yeah, Timbo.”</p><p>“A hot bath.”</p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>“With fancy soaps.”</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>“<em>Thank </em> you, my king.”</p><p>Watching them in amusement, Bruce waved away the thanks. “Jaylad, I brought a couple of books with. If you’d like to take a look when you’re done eating, let me know. Same for you when you’re done with the bath, Timmy.”</p><p>“This is the best day,” Jason crowed. “I just wish Dickie and Dami were also here.”</p><p>“Me, too,” Bruce said, settling on a chair near their couch. “Me, too.”</p><p>…</p><p>Dick had a bad feeling. His master, just returning from an event in Star City, had sent him off with a missive that morning, for one Lex Luthor in Metropolis. This was not the first time Dick had been sent off on a trip from Sionis to Luthor, so he wasn’t especially nervous about it. The trip wasn’t long, either: only a day’s ride from the manor to Metropolis, and he trusted his brothers to behave themselves for long enough for him to drop off the letter, wait for Luthor’s reply, and return. The nerves he was suffering from weren’t from the trip itself.</p><p>He was being followed.</p><p>Ever since he’d left the manor grounds, he’d felt eyes on him. Surreptitiously, he looked around him, but there were no other people on the path, not this early in the morning. There were no noises to give away another person’s presence, either, but he felt the eyes, all the same. </p><p>The small dagger he was allowed on these trips would be little help if they meant him harm, but his hand rested near the weapon just so he was ready. Rounding the curve in the path, three figures—two on horseback, one on the road—waited for him. It was an excellent place for a trap, for the steep drop on one side of the path and the dense forest on the other left him with no choice but to try and turn his horse around to escape. A quick glance behind him, however, told him there were another two people blocking that exit route, too.</p><p>“If you hand us the letter your master told you to deliver, we’ll let you go your own way—no harm, no foul.”</p><p>Lips twisting at how little he had that choice, Dick shook his head. “I have no missive.”</p><p>“And if I hadn’t seen it be placed in your vest, I might even have believed you. But I did. So I don’t. The letter, son.”</p><p>Dick looked at each of the men, who all wore bandanas over their faces. Which meant they may actually leave him alive when this was through, because Dick couldn’t <em> give </em> them the letter. </p><p>Slowly, he dismounted his horse, the other men who were also mounted following suit. </p><p>“You don’t have to do this.” The man almost sounded worried, which was strange. </p><p>“That goes both ways, I believe.”</p><p>The leader of the band of thieves hummed. “Then I guess neither of us really has a choice.”</p><p>Dick withdrew his dagger, keeping his horse at his back as they approached. “So it would seem.”</p><p>The fight was over ridiculously quickly, but not for lack of trying on Dick’s part. Despite his only having a dagger, he was a trained acrobat. Once he lost the weapon, he was in no way <em> helpless. </em>Of the five men who had ambushed him, one was unconscious and one had backed off when Dick had (regrettably) snapped his foot into his arm and broken it.</p><p>But he was still quickly overwhelmed, falling to the path with a hoarse cry when the leader backhanded him so hard he nearly blacked out. </p><p>“Hold him down. Hold him down!” </p><p>Dick bucked at the weight that suddenly landed on his arms and legs. The leader fixed his bandana, which had slipped during the fight and given Dick a glimpse of his face, before he knelt in front of Dick.</p><p>“You fought well,” he said, sounding winded. </p><p>“I had no choice.” He twisted and pulled his arms. “Don’t do this. Please.”</p><p>“I am sorry, son.” The letter was pulled out of Dick’s vest pocket and put in his own.</p><p>“No,” he gasped.</p><p>“I have to—”</p><p>“If you take that letter, you might as well kill me and take my body back to my master!”</p><p>“I won’t kill you.”</p><p>“<em>It would be more merciful,</em>” Dick bit the words off.</p><p>The leader shook his head, eyes crinkling above the bandana. “No, son.”</p><p>“We need to leave,” one of the others said, and the man nodded.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said again. Dick’s dagger was placed in the leader’s hands, and he <em> hoped…. </em></p><p>But instead of a killing blow, the hilt was slammed against his temple, and Dick was out.</p><p>He woke up in the forest, hidden away from the path. The thieves had been surprisingly considerate, tethering his horse to a nearby tree. It didn’t look like they’d stolen his saddle or the small satchel of food he’d been granted for the trip, either. They had been conscientious thieves who had possibly signed Dick’s death warrant. And that was only if his master was feeling lenient.</p><p>Running wasn’t an option. Sionis would take his anger and frustration out on his brothers, and as much pain as he was going to be in by failing to deliver the missive to Luthor, he would never do anything to put his family in danger. He would never let them take the fall for him. </p><p>He buried his face in his hands, already shaking. He needed to make sure his brothers had something to fall back on, in case Sionis viewed the loss of the letter as punishable by death. He had a few coins on his person; he’d been hoping to buy the boys a treat in Metropolis. Instead, that and the food in the satchel would need to be hidden before he returned. The tree by their usual fishing spot was one of their bolt holes. But he’d have to tell them somehow, let them know….</p><p>Pushing to his feet with a wince, he curled an arm around ribs bruised from the fight. The horse nickered at him softly, and he rested his forehead on its neck for a brief moment before he mounted the animal. </p><p>Three hours later, he slipped off the horse, eyes squinted at the figure near the river’s edge. He breathed a grateful prayer for the one spot of good news in a day that had gone so wrong.</p><p>“Jason?”</p><p>The boy spun around, a fishing pole in his hands. “Dick? Dick!” He dropped the pole and ran towards him, arms outstretched for Dick’s weary form to slump into his hug.</p><p>“Jason. I’m so sorry. I’m so <em> sorry.” </em></p><p>“Dickie, what...what happened to you? I thought...you shouldn’t be back for another day at least!”</p><p>“Got robbed on the road. They took the missive Sionis sent me out with.”</p><p>Dick could feel Jason freeze, feel the way his arms suddenly tightened around his middle. </p><p>“You need to run. Dickie, get on that horse and <em> go. Now!” </em></p><p>“I can’t. I can’t, Little Wing.”</p><p>“Yes, you can!”</p><p>“I won’t leave him to hurt you or one of the others. I won’t, Jay,” he continued when it looked like Jason was going to argue.</p><p>“He could kill you for this! We’ll be okay; we can handle—”</p><p>“No. I won’t risk it. But just in case...in case he…. I wanted to leave some things for you guys. I was going to put it in the tree, and to be honest, that may still be the safest bet, in case he gets angry and goes through your things.”</p><p>Dick pulled out of Jason’s arms to take off the small sack on the saddle. “Food. A few coins I saved. It’s not much; it’s….” It was all the money he had to his name. It was the only food in his possession. It was all he could leave for his brothers.</p><p>Jason’s arms wound around him again. “Leave it in the tree, Dickie. When you’re all healed up, you can come back for the coins. We’ll make sure the food doesn’t go to waste.”</p><p>Pressing a kiss to his younger brother’s forehead, he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. When several minutes had passed, he hummed. “You should head back. You need to be in sight when I return to Sionis. You know he’ll look to see if you all are around.”</p><p>“Okay.” But despite his agreement, Jason didn’t move, and Dick pulled him even closer, his head bowing over his brother’s. “You...you could wait a few hours. He won’t be expecting you back, anyways.”</p><p>“No, little brother. Prolonging the punishment won’t help. I’ll just end up dreading it more and more.”</p><p>Jason nodded. </p><p>Dick bent his head and brushed another kiss to his temple. “I love you, Jay. Tell the others I love them, too, okay?”</p><p>“I will,” Jay whispered. “I love you, too.” His brother stretched up to kiss his cheek, and then he spun on his heel and darted away.</p><p>Dick took his time putting his satchel in the hollow in the tree and covering it with leaves to camouflage it. When he thought he had given Jason enough time to get back to the manor and in sight of their master, Dick started back. Panic made his heart beat thunderously in his ears, made his hands tremble. </p><p>He walked into the courtyard, horse in tow. </p><p>His master saw him. Demanded an answer for his early return.</p><p>Had him beaten for his failure.</p><p>And then.</p><p>“Chain him to the whipping post!”</p><p>…</p><p>It did not matter how many times they heard each other in pain; it didn’t matter how many times they saw each other punished, it never, ever got any easier. The whip cracked against Dick’s back for the tenth time, drawing a grunt from his brother. It wouldn’t be until they hit the twentieth strike that Dick would do more than that. He bit off whatever noise he could to save them from his pain, but it didn’t really help. Instead, it only left him more exhausted.</p><p>No matter how many times they told him that, though, he never changed. </p><p>Damian’s small hand slid into his, and Tim clasped it tightly. The courtyard was silent but for the sound of the whip and Dick’s harsh breathing. The rest of Sionis’ servants and guards circled the post Dick was shackled to, watching—per Sionis’ instructions—what happened to those who failed their master. </p><p>He kept going and going, and Tim wanted to make a plan—they’d need medical supplies for Dick, which they were low on after Jason had burned himself working in the kitchen. They’d need….</p><p>Tim’s mind went blank at the agonized scream from their brother, from the person who had taken them under his wing to care for and protect and love. The kind soul who took care of them in a way their parents had never had the chance to, or never wanted to. Jason was trembling, on Tim’s right. Anger and fear and worry were obvious in the lines of his face. Tim stretched his fingers out to brush against his, none of them daring to move too much to draw their master’s attention. </p><p>Dick’s legs buckled, and Sionis screamed for him to stand, to accept the punishment. </p><p>When Tim turned eleven, he’d had nothing to look forward to but a day cleaning the stalls, scrubbing the floors, and a dozen other menial, back-breaking tasks. Dick, however, had worked through the night to take care of Tim’s chores and his own. All to give Tim a day off to enjoy his birthday.</p><p>Dick moaned, his feet shifting as he forced himself to follow a cruel master’s orders. </p><p>“Stand!” Sionis screamed, spit flying from his mouth to land on Dick’s face. He kept yelling, kept insulting and degrading him, and Tim felt a pressure building behind his eyes.</p><p>Dick had taken him fishing on that morning, just the two of them. It had been relaxing and freeing, being in nature with only Dick for company, with no concerns for once—no jobs to work on or master to avoid.  </p><p>At the sobbing that came from his brother, Tim closed his eyes, trying to focus on the memory. Dick had made him a necklace with a spare piece of leather thong and a tiny wooden figurine that he’d carved. When the brothers had all gotten together to celebrate that evening, he’d given them each a piece of candy, and Tim an additional piece of chocolate that he’d scraped and scavenged coins for. </p><p>Tim had lost count of how many times Dick had been struck. His brother was weeping and a strained whine crawled from his throat. His mouth moved, and though he didn’t speak, Tim knew what he was mouthing, could read the names on his lips. </p><p><em> Jason. Timothy. Damian. Jason. Timothy. Damian. </em>Over and over again. Their brother’s reasons to keep going, to hold on. </p><p>Sionis dropped the whip and picked up a bucket. With no warning, he emptied it on Dick’s bleeding, torn back. Salt water. Dick’s eyes rolled up in his head, his body hung loosely in the chains. Unconscious.</p><p>Damian was hiccuping with his quiet sobs. Jason’s face had gone completely blank, his eyes empty. Tim watched his brother be released from the shackles and dropped to the ground like a useless piece of trash. Their beautiful, kind, loving, generous, sunny, caring brother who put everyone else first.</p><p>And Tim wept.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(If you are looking for realistic medieval practices or realistic medieval anything...this is probably not the story you’re looking for.) </p><p>Chapter 2 is written and I would like to post it next week some time, if all goes well and y’all are interested.</p><p>As always, thank you very much for reading! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am blown away by the response to this story. Thank you so, so much!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I haven’t been able to get close enough to Dick’s cell to talk to him. Have you had any luck?”</p><p>Jason shook his head, pacing the limited space in Tim’s office. “No. The guards won’t budge.” He was strung so tight he felt like he was going to snap.</p><p>Tim rubbed his face and leaned back in the chair. “I don’t like this. It’s been over <em> two weeks.”  </em></p><p>“At least the doctor is being let in to see him,” Jason muttered.</p><p>Damian burst into the room, immediately latching onto Jason and reaching for Tim. “He’s going to sell Dick! His...his new owner is here!” he wailed.</p><p>“What?!” Tim shot to his feet and rushed around the desk, hand outstretched for Damian’s.</p><p>Their little brother dragged them out of the room and down the hall as he responded. “He just got here! He and the count are talking. ‘Finalizing the details,’ he said.”</p><p>“Who, Dami? Who’s here for him?”</p><p>“Slade!” </p><p>Jason stumbled. “No!”</p><p>But Damian didn’t need to respond, for they ran out into the courtyard then, where Sionis and Slade stood, shaking hands. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? We can prepare lodging for you.”</p><p>“No, Roman. Thank you, but I’d rather get back on the road. I have other plans simmering that I need to check on.”</p><p>“Very well.” Sionis turned. “Ah, here he is now.” He gestured whoever it was in the doorframe forward. </p><p>Jason couldn’t breathe. Prayers he half remembered from his childhood were flitting through his mind, underlaid by a repeated litany of <em> please no, please no, please no. </em>The figures came into the light, and the prayers stopped. The pleading stopped. Because two of Sionis’ men were leading Dick out of the manor.</p><p>Dick, pale and unsteady still from the injuries he’d received from Sionis’ punishment. Dick, with a chain around his neck that they were using to drag him forward. Dick, dressed in Slade’s colors, arms bound behind his back and chains around his ankles. Dick, face carefully blank, but eyes screaming his horror.</p><p>“Ah, Dickie.” Slade took the lead and pulled Dick closer. “Your old master has grown tired of you, to my benefit. I told you I would own you one day,” he taunted. </p><p>Damian moved, as if to dart forward, and Jason just managed to wrap his arms around him and pull him back. But Slade caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, and he turned to them with a smirk.</p><p>“Your ‘brothers,’ as you call them. Did you say goodbye to them?”</p><p>Dick didn’t answer, his eyes fastened on the three of them. </p><p>“Answer me!” Slade jerked the chain. </p><p>“No, sir.” His voice was soft, but it carried across the courtyard nonetheless. </p><p>“Well, who am I to deny you the chance? After all, you’ll never see them again. It would be doubly cruel to make you leave without a word.” Slade waved them forward. “Come, little ones. Say goodbye to your brother.”</p><p>As one, they stepped forward. The closer they got, the more Dick’s mask broke, until he was visibly fighting to hold himself together. Tim didn’t hesitate, immediately wrapping his arms around Dick’s waist, carefully, gently. Jason and Damian followed suit. </p><p>Unable to embrace them back, Dick dropped his head down to press a kiss to the crown of their heads. “I love you all, so much,” he whispered. “You are so special. Each one of you. I’ve been so blessed to be your brother.”</p><p>He leaned against them, and Jason felt his rage and fear crawl up his throat. He bit it back, because his brother started to talk again. “Take care of each other. I will never...<em>never </em>forget any of you.”</p><p>They were never going to see Dick again. <em> He was never going to see Dick again. </em>Jason shuddered and dug his forehead into Dick’s chest. “Don’t go,” he whispered. “Don’t leave us.”</p><p>“I’m not really going to leave you. So long as you always think of me, I’ll be right in that big heart you always deny having.”</p><p>“Time.” Dick was jerked away from them, Slade still keeping a firm grip on the chain. For as long as he was able to, Dick kept his eyes on them. Right before Slade’s men moved to swallow him from sight, Dick smiled, loving and kind and warm. </p><p>“Back to work, you three,” Sionis snapped after the courtyard was left empty. “I’ve been too soft already, letting you say goodbye. Don’t make me regret it.”</p><p>Tim tugged at them, and Jason, blinded by tears he refused to let fall when he was still in sight of the count, followed his lead. </p><p>“We have to—” he gasped when they finally rounded the corner. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t <em> breathe. </em></p><p>“Shut up,” Tim snapped, and Jason flinched, eyes flying to his brother, whose grip on Jason’s hand tightened as he pulled him and Damian through the manor.</p><p>“Timmy?”</p><p>“Not now.” He sobbed once, angry and grieving, and the sound nearly made Jason lose the little control he had over his own emotions.</p><p>He kept his lips pressed closed until they were in their room. A single, <em> traitorous </em> tear slipped down his cheek, and he dashed it away. He wanted to weep and wail and <em> scream, </em> because Dickie had been <em> sold; </em>but his brothers needed him to be strong. He closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath, holding it until his lungs nearly burst. </p><p>“We’ll talk,” Tim said quietly. “But not now. Not yet. Stay normal; work hard. Keep your head down.” </p><p>Jason hated that, hated that they couldn’t just rush after their brother and save him (how, he didn’t know, but he’d die trying), but Tim was right. Sionis would watch them especially closely right now. Jason had no doubt there would be other servants willing to tattle on them if they heard Jason or one of his brothers making plans to run or go after Dick.</p><p>Tim knelt in front of Damian, whose breath was hitching in little sobs that twisted Jason’s stomach. “Do you understand, Dami?” he breathed the question, eyes flicking to the door and back. “Business as normal.” And then his mouth moved, but no sound came out. <em> I have a plan. I have a plan. </em>“Okay?”</p><p>Dami sobbed again and slowly wrapped his arms around Tim’s neck. He nodded.</p><p>Jason stepped closer, his arms coming around both of his brothers. Tim’s eyes flashed to his, and Jason clenched his jaw. He nodded, because he knew what Tim wanted.</p><p>He hated it, and he hated himself for saying what he was about to. He tightened his grip on Damian in warning. Glancing at the bottom of the door, he saw the shadows shift. There was an eavesdropper close enough to hear.</p><p>“He shouldn’t have lost our master’s missive,” Jason said, voice pitched just loud enough to carry beyond the door. “I know you’re going to miss him, Dami, and so will we. But he shouldn’t have lost something important to the count. It was Dick’s fault, what happened to him.”</p><p>“Take it as a lesson,” Tim added, silent tears falling down his face, “to serve our master, and to serve him well.”</p><p>The shadow, which had paused at the door, continued on its way. Jason tapped Tim’s back and tilted his head down to rest on his brothers’. In his arms, Tim trembled and Damian fell apart.</p><p>...</p><p>The following days passed slowly—tortuously slowly—but as they continued, the eyes watching their every move started to lessen. Five days later, all three of them fishing at the creek, Tim finally told them the plan. Tim would tell Sionis that Jason was sick with a fever and rash—sick enough that the count wouldn’t risk being contaminated to check on him. It would grant Jason four days, <em> maybe </em>five, to make his way to the king and follow the order he’d given both Tim and Jason and return.</p><p>That if they needed help, they were to come to him. </p><p>“If ever there is a time we need assistance, then it’s now.”</p><p>“I’ll need a horse to get there in enough time to make it back without my absence being noticed.”</p><p>“Rent one,” Damian said. He dug into his pocket, coming out with two coins. </p><p>“That’s a good start, Dami, but it’s going to take more than—”</p><p>He cut off when Tim handed him four of his own coins. Jason himself had three. They could just about rent one, if—he slapped his hand to his forehead. Rushing to the tree they kept some of their belongings in, he pulled out the satchel Dick had left them before he’d turned himself in to Sionis. </p><p>Six coins. His brother had been able to save six coins. Jason curled his hand around the money, shoulders slumping; he knew the older boy had wanted to surprise them with treats when he returned from Metropolis. </p><p>“We have enough.”</p><p>“Can you sneak out tonight?”</p><p>“I’ll even act sick for the rest of the day,” Jason said. He put the coins back into the hollow in the tree. Turning back to his brothers, he ruffled a hand through Tim’s hair and pulled Damian in for a quick hug. </p><p>“He’ll help Dick,” he told Damian, hoping he wasn’t giving the boy false hope (hoping it wasn’t false hope he was clinging to himself). “The king will help Dick. I promise.”</p><p>...</p><p>“Excuse me, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Bruce looked up from the papers spread across the table, frowning at the guard. “I asked not to be interrupted.” Beside him, Clark and Diana paused their conversation, looking between the guard and Bruce before stepping further away to continue speaking.</p><p>Alfred appeared over the guard’s shoulder. Bruce immediately headed to him, barking out, “What happened? What’s wrong?” He had not seen Alfred so worried in years. </p><p>“It’s Jason. He just rode in, and he needs to speak with you. Now.”</p><p>Bruce sped up, heart pounding in fear. His little thief, in the time that they’d known each other, had never come to his castle unless he was accompanying the count. Bruce knew he couldn’t, not unless it was an emergency. And it must be a bad one for Jason to risk making the trip.</p><p>He was nearly running when he reached the entrance hall, Alfred keeping pace with him. Jason was prowling through the space, his back to them as they rushed forward. </p><p>“Jaylad?”</p><p>The boy spun around and ran for him. “My king!” He started sobbing instantly, and Bruce lifted and held him close. Jason was trembling, eyes wild, face streaked with dirt. He clutched Bruce’s robes, trying to speak, but crying too hard to form words.</p><p>“Easy. Easy, Jaylad. Take a breath for me,” he soothed, swaying side to side as he ran a hand up and down Jason’s back. </p><p>“P-please, my king. Please. You s-said if I needed, <em> please.” </em></p><p>“Shh, my child. Breathe first. Alfred, can you get a cup of water, please?”</p><p>The man nodded and swiftly strode away. </p><p>“Please, <em> please,” </em>Jason whimpered, and Bruce’s blood boiled at whatever had distressed the boy. </p><p>“Are you hurt? Do you have an injury?”</p><p>The boy leaned back, rubbing his fists in his eyes to wipe away the tears. He shook his head. “I’m not, but <em> Dickie,</em>” he cried.</p><p>Alfred reappeared, carrying a tray with a cup of water and some bread. Bruce sat Jason down in one of the chairs lining the hall and knelt beside him, one hand rubbing his back, the other clasping the boy’s shaking hand. </p><p>“Take a drink, lad,” Alfred murmured, kneeling beside Bruce and holding the tray out. </p><p>“But, I—”</p><p>Bruce cut off his protest. “Please,” he said softly. “You’re very upset. If you don’t take care of yourself, you may not be able to tell us everything that’s wrong. So please, Jaylad,” he pressed a kiss to the boy’s temple. “Take a drink. Eat a piece of bread. And then tell us what’s wrong.”</p><p>His whole body shaking, Jason picked up the glass. His hands were so unsteady he spilled the water over the side, wetting the front of his clothes and Bruce’s robe. He paled even more when he saw that, eyes fluttering as he nearly fainted.</p><p>“My k-king, I am so sor—”</p><p>“It’s not important, son. Hey,” he settled his palm on the boy’s cheek, lifting his face to meet Bruce’s. “I promise you, I’m not worried or mad.”</p><p>He shifted his grip to help support the cup. “Take a drink. Slow. Steady.”</p><p>The boy’s throat moved as he swallowed once, twice, and Bruce set the cup down. Alfred handed him a small hunk of bread, and the boy nibbled on it, eyes fastened on Bruce, pleading silently. </p><p>“Better?”</p><p>He nodded, and Bruce resumed rubbing his back. “Good. Now take a deep breath, and start from the beginning.”</p><p>Jason obeyed, and Bruce’s heart twisted as he watched him pull himself together. Hands squeezed into fists, he took another deep breath and started to speak.</p><p>“The count sent Dickie out as a messenger. He was to take a missive to a count in Metropolis, but was ambushed.”</p><p>Alfred stiffened, gaze flying to Bruce, who tried to hide his horror. The young man who had fought desperately against five of Bruce’s men; the one Jim had spoken of with respect when he’d returned with the missive, but who he and his fellow knights had had to leave bruised and unconscious on the side of the road.</p><p>“He lost the message, and the count wasn’t—wasn’t happy.” The boy’s face crumpled and smoothed back out. “He wh-whipped him really badly and threw him in the dungeon. I wouldn’t have b-bothered you for that, we’ve dealt with it before, but he sold Dickie! S-sold him!”</p><p>Alfred’s eyes were closed, his mouth moving quickly as he prayed silently. Bruce deliberately took a long, deep breath, unable to give in to the fury that flowed through his veins. </p><p>“Please.” Bruce tilted his head at the boy, one of four children he had sworn to himself he would save and protect. “Please, my king. Will you help him?”</p><p>“Who was he sold to?” He didn’t recognize his voice, which was gravelly and even deeper than usual.</p><p>More tears fell down Jason’s face. “Slade Wilson.”</p><p>Alfred wasn’t quick enough to cut off his cry. Bruce very nearly let the curses on the tip of his tongue free.</p><p>“He’s been interested in Dick for years. Since he was a child.” Jason’s sweet blue-green eyes swung from Bruce to Alfred and back. “He’s cruel. Worse than Sionis. Please, my king. Please don’t let him stay there.”</p><p>Bruce wrapped his hand around the boy’s head and pulled him to his chest. He closed his eyes and took another slow breath, pressing one more kiss to the crown of Jason’s head. When he next looked, Clark and Diana were framed in the doorway. </p><p>“How can we help?” Clark asked.</p><p>“Are you sure? That wasn’t part of our...plans.”</p><p>So close. He and his allies had been set to leave that very day to rescue Jason and his siblings. They had been so close to finishing this without the additional pain and stress to his children.</p><p>Diana rolled her eyes at him. “Bruce. You’re our friend. It doesn’t matter if it’s a part of a plan or not. If you need help, we’re here. Just like we know you would be right by our side as soon as we have need.”</p><p>Jason had gone limp against him, and he ducked his head to check on the poor child. Jason was staring up at him, but his eyelashes were fluttering again.</p><p>“Did you ride straight here?” Bruce asked him.</p><p>“I stopped only to rest the horse.”</p><p>Another worry occurred to him. “Did you steal the horse, child?”</p><p>“No, my king. We had enough coins to rent from a city stable. We’ve been saving up.”</p><p>“Good,” he sighed. “Good.” </p><p>He returned his attention to his friends. “His brother has been sold to Slade Wilson. I’m going to get him back.”</p><p>Clark nodded slowly. “He has an impressive fort, and his guards are especially well-trained. I brought twenty warriors with me.”</p><p>“And I, fifteen of my sisters.”</p><p>Bruce stood, pulling Jason into his arms and cradling him to his chest. Jason whispered that he could walk, but Bruce ignored him. He’d have to leave the boy behind to save Dick, but while he could, he wanted to care for him. </p><p>“Alfred, call for Jim. Tell him to gather thirty of our best. No. Forty. I want half stationed here in the castle to protect its occupants.” After all, Jason would be within its walls. “The rest for the trip.”</p><p>Alfred bowed. “I’ve also had Barbara prepare a room for Jason, next to yours.”</p><p>“My thanks,” he said, striding out of the hall and through the corridors. </p><p>“My king, I can’t stay. I have to go back.”</p><p>“No, you don’t.” He opened the bedroom door and stepped in, crossing the space to lay Jason on the bed. </p><p>Jason huffed, his hands still curled in Bruce’s robe in such a sweet gesture that Bruce’s heart melted. He loved this child. Loved Tim. Loved Dick and Damian, even if he had never had the opportunity to meet them. Yet. He would. Those boys would be in his castle by the end of the week, out of Sionis’ grip and away from Slade. </p><p>That poor boy. Guilt ate at Bruce, for it was his orders that had caused Dick to lose the missive and be not only tortured, but sold. </p><p>“I have to. The count will notice I’m missing.”</p><p>“Dear one, he probably already noticed that. You going back will only place you in his sights and back in his control.”</p><p>“Tim told him I was sick. That I had a rash and fever. I have a little time.”</p><p>“I don’t want you going back.”</p><p>“My king, if I don’t? Tim and Dami will pay for it. I love you, and I would love to stay here, but I cannot leave them to his wrath.”</p><p>Bruce’s chest hitched at the boy’s words. <em> I love you, </em> he’d said. <em> I love you. </em>Jason tilted his head in concern when Bruce didn’t answer. He saw the moment it dawned on the boy what he’d said, for he gasped and covered his mouth.</p><p>“That was inappropriate, my king. I am so sorry.”</p><p>“No. No, son. Don’t apologize.” He cupped his hands around the boy’s face, smile so wide it hurt. “I love you too, Jaylad. So much.”</p><p>The boy stared at him in wonder. </p><p>“Your Majesty? Everyone is waiting in the throne room for you,” Alfred said from the doorway.</p><p>“Very well. I’m on my way.” He didn’t move his eyes from Jason. “Stay for the rest of the day. We’ll be leaving as soon as night falls. You can ride with me until we reach the outskirts of Sionis’ lands. We’ll be riding hard, so you’ll be back around midnight tomorrow. Fair?”</p><p>Jason sighed and melted into the bed. “You promise?”</p><p>“You have my word.”</p><p>“Okay. My king?”</p><p>Bruce hummed. </p><p>“Thank you. Truly.”</p><p>“You’re welcome, Jaylad.” He carded his fingers through the boy’s hair. “Get some rest.”</p><p>He turned to leave, glancing back when he was at the door to see Jason was already asleep. Alfred fell into step with him. “I finished making provisions for your travels this morn. You’ll have enough, even with the added time to rescue Richard. They’re light meals for eating on the move.”</p><p>“Good, because we won’t be stopping until we get to Wilson’s fort and free Dick.”</p><p>...</p><p>“You are certain you will not be caught or in trouble?”</p><p>Jason nodded, “Yes, my king.”</p><p>Bruce twisted his lips together. He hated letting Jason go back into that hellhole, especially when Bruce wasn’t sure the boy’s excuse for going missing would stand up under Sionis’ attention. But <em> if </em>Jason’s absence was not considered strange and he remained missing past the time Tim could cover for him, then Tim and Damian would both be in trouble. </p><p>“I will be making a visit to Sionis’ manor after I free Dickie from Slade.” When Jason’s face shifted, Bruce paused. “What’s the matter?”</p><p>“You aren’t going to leave him here, are you?” The boy’s question, spoken hesitantly, made Bruce shake his head hard. </p><p>“Of course not! But I have business to attend to with the count, and I can finally bring it to fruition.”</p><p>“Okay.” Jason’s shoulders relaxed.</p><p>It was time. Any longer, and Bruce would make excuse after excuse to keep Jason nearby. But he didn’t want to leave Dick in Slade’s hands any longer than necessary. Jason and his brothers should be okay for the time it would take to reach Slade’s fort, free Dick, and return. Dick would <em> not </em>be okay with any delay.</p><p>“Be safe, Jaylad.” He crouched and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Keep your head down. I will see you soon.”</p><p>Jason smiled, small and sweet. “I look forward to it, and so will Tim and Damian when I tell them.” He rocked up on his toes and back down, leaning towards Bruce before he pulled back abruptly.</p><p>Bruce understood. He wrapped his arms around Jason and pulled him in for a long hug. Jason’s thin arms curled around his back and held tightly. </p><p>“Thank you,” he said softly, “for saving my brother.”</p><p>Bruce bowed his head over the boy’s, taking a deep breath and sighing slow and long. “You are welcome, son.” He forced himself to let go, chucking Jason on his chin as he moved.</p><p>Jason grinned up at him and then abruptly spun on his heel and bounded into the darkness. Bruce watched him until he disappeared and then waited another minute.</p><p>“Are you ready, Your Majesty?” Jim asked.</p><p>Slowly, Bruce nodded, and then, just as quickly as Jason had moved, he turned and mounted his horse, directing him back to where the rest of the troops waited. They straightened to attention, and Diana and Clark moved to flank him. </p><p>“Let’s move!”</p><p>But a short time more, Dick would be free of Slade. Then they would save the other three boys and make sure Sionis could never hurt them again.</p><p>They would be <em>safe.</em></p><p>…</p><p>They stopped just outside the boundaries of the land Slade had claimed as his own, in what was called No Man’s Land. The sun was peeking over the horizon, promising a beautiful array of colors, as they stood on a hill overlooking the fort and surrounding countryside. Bruce had no doubt Wilson knew they were coming, that he had sentries posted to warn him when his borders were crossed, though he knew Slade wouldn’t know why they were coming. </p><p>Clark called out last minute directions, and then, when he nodded at Bruce, they were off again. A third of their group split off, backup in case Slade refused to free Dick. The rest of the group moved forward, trotting down the path that led straight into Slade’s fort. </p><p>“Whadd’ya want?” The guard at the gate glared at them and then turned to spit.</p><p>The disrespect was expected—while Bruce, Clark, and Diana were royalty, that was not something recognized in No Man’s Land. The only rulers that mattered to those who lived here were the ones who had either bought their loyalty or bought <em> them. </em> </p><p>“We are here to see your master, Slade Wilson.”</p><p>“He ain’t seeing anybody today.”</p><p>“You’re mistaken.” Bruce bared his teeth. “He’ll see us. Go and check; we’ll wait.”</p><p>The guard didn’t move, and Bruce didn’t look away. Finally, the guard scoffed and gestured to another man on the inside of the gates. Bruce let his attention move to the fort, which was imposing and cold. </p><p>What must Dick have thought, being led here? He’d been torn from his family, injured still by the punishment his former master had bestowed upon him. He must have been hopeless and grieving. Scared. That thought twisted his heart and made him even more impatient to free him.</p><p>The guard who had run in to tell Slade of his visitors reappeared in the doorway and whistled. The one still standing in front of them grunted. </p><p>“Lucky you,” he muttered, disappearing to open the gates. </p><p>“Steady,” Clark murmured under his breath. “Our plan will work. We’ll get him free.”</p><p>Bruce took a deep breath, relaxing the death grips he had on the pommel of the saddle and the hilt of his sword. He hadn’t realized how tightly strung he was. Betraying how deeply he felt about this would not work well for them in regards to negotiating for Dick. As it was, Slade may still deny them the ability to purchase him (and his blood <em> boiled, </em> for here in No Man’s Land, buying and selling <em> humans </em> was a common, accepted process, while it was illegal in the kingdoms. And <em> oh</em>, had Sionis put another nail in his own coffin). Bruce, however, would not be leaving here with<em>out </em>Dickie. Whatever it took.</p><p>Slade Wilson was not a king, but the room they were led to could not be described as anything but a throne room. There was a large iron chair at the end of the room and a long strip of black carpet that traversed the space. There were guards—well-armed, muscular, and armored—stationed throughout the room.</p><p>Bruce took it all in with a glance, before his attention was held by the man sprawled on the “throne,” his feet resting atop a poor, shivering servant on all fours. Bare from the waist up, it was easy to see the vivid red stripes that marred the young man’s back, and scars, burns, and bruises that ranged from deep purple and black to light brown, yellow, and green along his torso and arms. The side facing them showed a thick strip of leather covered his mouth and that his eye was almost swollen shut.</p><p>Bruce had known Slade was cruel, but this…. Seeing it in person was different than hearing about it. He’d been sick before, but nausea curdled his stomach even worse, and he struggled to keep his face blank. Dickie would not be the only one he was going to leave with.</p><p>He shot a quick glance at Clark, who nodded, already catching on to Bruce’s thoughts.</p><p>“Oh, Your <em> Majesties. </em>To what do I owe this distinct displeasure?” Slade drawled.</p><p>“You’ve been stealing from Gotham, Metropolis, and Themyscira warehouses,” Bruce said, brushing his hands down his robes, movements careless and unconcerned.</p><p>Slade tilted his head, a flash of surprise on his face. “You think so?”</p><p>“We know,” Clark rumbled. “We have more than enough proof to arrest you, no matter that you are currently in No Man’s Land.”</p><p>Slade smiled slowly, and there was no mistaking the threat in the expression. “And what are you going to do about it? You’re in my home. My guards outnumber yours. You won’t win.”</p><p>“We’re willing to forgive your thievery. For a price,” Diana said.</p><p>Slade straightened. “Oh? Do tell. You have my full attention.”</p><p>“You recently came into possession of a servant from Roman Sionis. We will waive the charges of burglary we noted from your record in exchange for him. His name is Dick Grayson.”</p><p>The figure beneath Wilson’s feet twitched, a minuscule motion probably caused by Slade’s heel digging into an injury. The assassin lifted his eyebrows as he curled his hands around the arms of his chair. </p><p>“For all of that, you only want a useless slave?”</p><p>“No <em> soul </em>is worthless,” Diana shot back, while Bruce took a long, deep breath to control the anger that had spiked at the man’s words.</p><p>“Let me be clearer,” Wilson flicked his hand through the air. “Why do you want him?”</p><p>“I’ve been searching for him for years.” Bruce gave a King Brucie smile, empty and bright. It hurt to pull the expression on, but they couldn’t make it seem as though they were desperate for the boy. Diana, with her impassioned words that hinted they cared about a “useless slave,” meant he couldn't slip up. “I had heard of his abilities as a child and have been informed he is still talented. I need a new addition to my entertainment. Good acrobats are so hard to come by.”</p><p>He shrugged at the look Slade leveled on him, a mixture of disbelief and humor. </p><p>“You expect me to believe you came all this way, with those two bleeding hearts, and want the boy only because you need a new acrobat? You expect me to believe <em> that</em>, when you came with a contingent of guards?” Slade laughed.</p><p>“We’ve business to attend to once we’re finished here,” Bruce said. “And besides, it’s not only <em> my </em>food stores you pilfered from. It’s theirs.”</p><p>Slade leaned back in his chair, heels of his boots pressing even more cruelly into the back of the servant still bowed at his feet. If the negotiations didn’t go well, Bruce worried he would not be able to save that poor servant in addition to Dick. </p><p>“I must admit I had been after this particular slave since he was a boy. To part with him now is nearly inconceivable.”</p><p><em> Nearly. </em>Bruce didn’t let himself celebrate—the deal wasn’t complete yet, but he did feel his spirits lift at the word.</p><p>He sighed. “I told you it wouldn’t be enough, Clarkie. Fine. I’ll offer you, in addition to our previous offer, fifty coins.”</p><p>Slade smirked. “Fifty? For the servant I’ve been wanting for years? No, no. That’s nowhere near enough to compensate for my loss. Not to mention the time and effort I’ve already put into training him.” He stroked his chin. Bent forward to ruffle the young man’s hair and place his feet on the floor. “Kneel and face me.”</p><p>The servant's head bowed even lower for only a moment before he shifted, painstakingly readjusting until he sat up on his knees and faced his master. Slade parted his legs for the young man to get closer. It was degrading and insulting, and Bruce had to swallow back bile. </p><p>He could count every one of the servant’s ribs. If Bruce had to break into the fort on his own to save him, he would.</p><p>“Three hundred coins.”</p><p>Bruce laughed. “Three hundred for a servant. In addition to wiping your record.” He would pay it in a <em> heartbeat </em>to save Dick, but he couldn’t seem eager. He had to be calm. “One hundred coins.”</p><p>“Two-fifty.” His hand rested on the servant, massaging his shoulder.</p><p>“One-fifty.”</p><p>“Two hundred and twenty five. And that’s my final offer.” The hand moved to the servant’s neck, tipping his head back and baring his bruised throat.</p><p>“Two hundred and twenty five and we waive the burglary charges; in return we leave now with Dick, <em> alive, </em>no longer your possession.” Clark crossed his arms. </p><p>Wilson’s smirk grew. “A good catch on the loophole. I agree.”</p><p>“Deal!” Bruce clapped his hands and smiled. “I think he’ll be a great addition to my troupe. I must admit I’m excited to see him.” He raised an eyebrow, a hint for Slade to call for Dick.</p><p>Slade began to unbuckle the gag around the servant’s mouth. “What do you think, Dickie? Think you’ll enjoy your time in the king’s service?”</p><p><em> No. </em>Bruce nearly swayed. </p><p>“Answer me,” Slade growled when the gag was free and only Dick’s, <em> Dick’s, </em>rasping breaths were heard. </p><p>“I will...serve w-wherever...I am...needed,” he whispered. It was obvious he had been screaming; his voice was hoarse and cracking.</p><p>Diana brushed against his arm, and Bruce fumbled to pull out his money purse. The coins were counted out quickly, and Clark pulled out a rolled scroll—their proof of Slade’s thieving being wiped from the record.</p><p>“I’ll let you keep the shackles. My gift to you,” Slade called. He wrapped an arm around Dick’s shoulders and walked him down to the three of them. </p><p>For the first time, Bruce got to see the boy he’d heard about since Jason entered his life. The handsome, kind-hearted, thoughtful, funny young man who adored his little brothers. The boy who had scavenged for coins to buy them gifts on their birthdays, who had protected them from what punishments he could.</p><p>The boy he saw was bruised and weary; the eyes a very tired Timmy had described as sparkling sapphires, were dull and empty. The young man he had been so looking forward to meeting (whom he had never dreamed he would meet in <em> this </em>kind of scenario) had hidden himself away, detached himself from the horrible situation he’d found himself in.  </p><p>Bruce didn’t blame him.</p><p>“It’ll be a while before I’ll be able to have him perform, Slade,” he forced himself to say, dispassionate and disappointed in a shallow way. He pouted. “Did you only acquire him to be your punching bag?”</p><p>“I had hopes he would be one of my Renegades. In the time I’ve had him, however, he has proven to be even more stubborn than I expected. Though to be fair, I can’t take all of the credit for the wounds you see. He was damaged goods when I bought him.” He held out a key for Bruce. “For the chains.”</p><p>A Renegade, an elite assassin. Slade usually had two or three that they all tried to keep track of. Oh, thank God they had been able to save him. </p><p>And thank God Dick had been strong enough and stubborn enough to fight back. Though he had certainly suffered for it. So many bruises and welts, cuts and burns covered him, he must be in agony.</p><p>“Well, then we’ve taken a dud off your hands in the process. It was...interesting...doing business with you. Come, friends!” Bruce gestured to Clark and Diana. He flashed another smile at Slade and waved as he led them, and the few guards they’d brought in with them, out. </p><p>Dick shuffled along with them, the shackles on his ankles clanking and keeping his stride short. His shoulders bowed, and Bruce’s heart shattered. Jason and Tim and Damian’s brother was...he wasn’t broken, Bruce refused to even consider the thought. But he was seriously hurt.</p><p>“He’s going to be too slow just walking,” he called loudly, “and we’ve places to go and things to do. So put him in the cart!”</p><p>He mounted his horse, Clark and Diana beside him, livid at what they had witnessed. Diana muttered under her breath curses that Clark kept trying to keep quiet—something not easy, as she grew louder with every passing second.</p><p>“Diana,” Bruce said under his breath. “Wait. Please,” he looked back at Dick, who’d been lifted into the cart and sat hunched over, “please wait.”</p><p>She pursed her lips, eyes blazing as she met his. </p><p>“Believe me, I know,” he told her. “But we’re not safe yet.”</p><p>“We’re ready, Your Majesties,” came the call, and Bruce kicked his horse, Clark and Diana following suit. She rode harder and faster out of the gate, venting her frustration. Bruce wished he could do the same. Instead, he kept up a light conversation with Clark, moving at a slower rate.</p><p>There were eyes on them, watching and assessing as they moved out. Slade had given up Dick very easily. He may have negotiated the price higher, but he—by his own words—had been after Dick for years. Yes, Bruce, along with Clark and Diana, had offered him immunity from some of his crimes, which was no small offer, but Bruce had a feeling Slade would not leave them alone.</p><p>Bruce could do nothing else, though. Not yet, at least. He was, however, already tweaking some of the plans he and his fellow royals had discussed regarding the mercenary assassin.</p><p>They went several miles into Bruce’s territory before they felt safe enough to stop, felt the eyes watching them peel away and leave them in peace. He had hated ignoring Dick for all that time. He had hated leaving him without a tunic, even though the sun was more than warm enough to make it comfortable. </p><p>They pulled into a clearing in the forest big enough for them to camp and conceal themselves. The sun stretched beyond straight overhead, and Dick <em> still </em> wore those damn shackles. Dick <em> still </em> sat hunched and silent in the cart.</p><p><em> Enough, </em>Bruce thought, sliding off his horse and shaking out his legs. He rushed to the cart, his men parting for him. Clumsy fingers scrambled for the key that had been burning in his pocket, nearly dropping it in their haste. Dull, blue eyes stared at him when he looked up, and Bruce swallowed.</p><p>He didn’t know what to say. All of this planning and work, and any words he’d practiced had fled before he could even say <em> one </em>of them.</p><p>He watched, held silent, as Dick slid off of the cart. “Your Majesty,” he whispered, slowly bending his knees until he kneeled. He was about to lay flat on the ground at his feet when Bruce finally snapped out of it.</p><p>“Stop. Stop, child. Just sit here.”</p><p>Dick’s eyebrows curled, just the tiniest amount, confusion breaking through his emotionless mask. Footsteps nearby made them both look up, to see Diana with a cloak in her hands. Dick stiffened, one hand bracing the ground as he started to shift and kneel again.</p><p>“No, my child,” she said softly. Draping the cloak over his shoulders, she didn’t let her touch linger, but her smile was warm and welcoming. “Rest. Let us care for you.”</p><p>“I don’t understand,” he whispered.</p><p>Bruce gently took his hand and worked to unlock the shackles. He and Diana both hissed when the chains fell away, revealing the raw wounds on his wrists. </p><p>“Do you know who I am? Who we are?” he asked the boy. Shifting a little, he made quick work of the chains around his ankles. He frowned when he saw more cuts and bruises. He had a bad feeling Dick had not been free of restraints for the majority of the time he’d been with Slade.</p><p>“Slade t-told me who when you a-arrived…. Your Majesties, King Bruce Wayne of Gotham, Queen Diana Prince of Themyscira, and King Clark Kent of Metropolis, who is...is starting a fire. I can...I can do that, if you wish.” He spoke slowly, the words dragged from him with difficulty. </p><p>Bruce could have slapped himself. “Water. I need—” Diana held out a canteen, and he sighed. “Clark and I don’t deserve you, m’lady.”</p><p>“No, you do not.” She smiled again, directing the expression to Dick, who looked even more confused.</p><p>Bruce untwisted the top and held out the canteen for Dick to take a sip. “Have Jason or Timothy spoken to you about me? Easy, easy,” he warned, when Dick took several quick drinks.</p><p>Dick immediately pulled the canteen away. “S-sorry,” he gasped.</p><p>“No, no apologies. I just don’t want you to get sick.”</p><p>The boy carefully set the canteen down, head bowed, but still watching Bruce. “They have spoken about you, Your Majesty.” Neutral, careful. His voice sounded strained, still, but a little better.</p><p>“I made Jason promise me something when I first met him. Did he tell you this? I told him if he needed anything, to come to me.”</p><p>The faint confusion morphed quickly into horror, Dick breaking through a little bit more. “Yes. He...he <em> didn’t, </em>did he?”</p><p>“I told him to,” Bruce said.</p><p>“Then he should have saved the help for himself or one of the others! They wasted it!” Dick rasped. </p><p>“No, chum. No, they didn’t,” Bruce said, shaking his head. This boy—this sweet child, who had been in hell—would still have preferred his brothers save themselves instead of him. “You needed help. And I came as soon as I heard.”</p><p>Dick covered his face. “Your Majesty, I am grateful. Truly. But I still...still don’t understand.”</p><p>“Well,” Bruce said, settling a little more comfortably on the ground. Diana rummaged through a sack and pulled out a hunk of cheese. Dick accepted it with a muted thanks. “It started like this. A little thief stole food from a table at my gala….”</p><p>Over the next two hours, he continued to speak about his time with Dick’s brothers. He told him, without saying the words, how much he loved his brothers as he recounted his interactions with the boys. He and Diana slowly worked to bandage and care for Dick’s injuries, brushing aside his implications he could do it himself. And with each story he told, Bruce saw Dick come closer and closer to the surface, until finally, telling him about another time Tim had been so tired he had no filter on his mouth, Dick smiled.</p><p>It stole his breath. This boy—who had been through so much—smiled with his whole soul, from the beaming grin to the sparkling eyes that crinkled at the corners. His face was bruised and swollen, but the expression was still pure sunshine. Diana and Clark, who had also joined them at this point, held still, freezing in awe with Bruce as the child finally broke past the barriers he’d hidden himself behind. </p><p>Bruce would give his life for this young man. Just as he would for Jason and Tim. Just as he would for Damian, whom he was going to meet soon.</p><p>...</p><p>“You mean...you mean they won’t have to stay with the count anymore?”</p><p>Bruce shook his head. “Never again. Sionis is going to be arrested. Your brothers will be free.”</p><p>Dick studied him, the eye not swollen shut narrowed up at him. “What….” He looked down at his fingers, twisting together in his lap. “Why are you doing this, Your Majesty? What are you getting out of this?”</p><p>The cart hit a pothole, jostling him and making him wince. Bruce hadn’t gotten around to telling Dick his plan the day before, Dick crashing hard after he’d had a small dinner that evening. They’d woken early that morning to set off for Sionis’ land, leaving Bruce to explain what they were going to do as they traveled. It was a rough trip for Dick, though, and Bruce resolved to stay in what would soon be Sionis’ former manor until Dick was healed enough to make the journey home comfortably.</p><p>“I mean no disrespect asking, my king. I just don’t understand.”</p><p>These precious children, who trusted him so quickly, whose loyalty was transferred to him without Bruce having done anything to deserve it.... </p><p>“No disrespect taken, Dick.” He looked ahead, directing his horse down the road as he thought how to answer. “I simply am not sure how to explain. I knew, as soon as I saw Jason, that he would be under my protection. Same for Timothy. Your former master is a traitor. His abuse towards you and your brothers is unacceptable and abhorrent. I can help, so I am doing so.</p><p>“To be even more open with you, we were a single day away from our arrest of Sionis and liberating you and your brothers when Jason came to my door.”</p><p>“That doesn’t answer what you’re getting out of this, my king,” Dick said softly.</p><p>“I don’t need anything, chum. But I <em> want </em>you and your brothers not to live in fear, and by doing this, by taking Sionis down, that’s what I’m getting.”</p><p>Another pothole, another grimace from Dick, and Bruce made a mental note to have his transportation division pay more attention to the state of their roads. This was needless suffering for his child. Not that it would make a difference; the paths wouldn’t be fixed until after Dick was healed.</p><p>He was still going to make sure they were fixed. In retaliation for making Dick hurt.</p><p>“My king, we are nearing Sionis’ land.”</p><p>“Thank you, Jim.”</p><p>Dick’s head tilted as he looked at Jim, a furrow between his brow. Bruce’s heart clenched; did Dick recognize him? Not that Bruce wouldn’t come clean about the stolen missive from Sionis to Luthor, but this wasn’t exactly a convenient time for Dick to—</p><p>“You were the one who ambushed me on the road. The letter…” he trailed off. “That was evidence of the count’s betrayal, wasn’t it?”</p><p>“It was. I am sorry, son,” Jim said, after a glance at Bruce. “You fought well. My men and I felt badly about what happened.”</p><p>“No. I wasn’t happy about the count’s punishment, but because you found out he was going to betray the king, it means my brothers will be safe sooner rather than later.”</p><p>“Dick, they did not know it was you when they took the missive from you. <em> I </em>didn’t know it was you until Jason told us about your punishment and Wilson taking you,” Bruce said.</p><p>“You mean Wilson buying me,” Dick said flatly. He shook himself. “I meant what I said. My brothers will be safe. I hold absolutely no ill will for how that comes to be.”</p><p>Bruce covered his eyes for a long moment. These kids were going to break his heart. He was so proud of them, even as he worried about how selfless they each were. Dick should be angry at them for causing him such pain. But it was clear he truly did not hold them responsible for what he had suffered. </p><p>Jim ducked his head in acknowledgement. “I, too, am glad you and your brothers will be safe. You’ve done a good job watching over them, from what I understand.”</p><p>Dick’s chin lifted, a proud look on his face. “I’ve done my best.”</p><p>Jim smiled and then turned back to Bruce. “Your Majesty?”</p><p>“Warn the soldiers. I will lead the way with Clark and Diana.”</p><p>Jim dipped his head and spurred his horse on. </p><p>Bruce looked down at Dick, who was watching him. “I ask for forgiveness, too,” he said softly. Dick flinched at the words. “When Jason told me, I…. I had promised myself to keep you and your brothers safe. I failed you.”</p><p>Dick shook his head. “I don’t blame you, my king. I promise.”</p><p>Bruce rested his hand on the boy’s head, ruffling his hair gently. Dick froze for a moment, something almost scared in his expression. Bruce started to pull away, an apology on his lips, but then Dick suddenly grinned, bright and happy. Unsure what happened, Bruce smiled back. </p><p>“How would you like to ride beside us onto Sionis’ grounds, on my right? Do you think your body could handle that?”</p><p>Dick gaped. “You…. Seriously? With you and Queen Diana and King Clark?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“I don’t...I don’t deserve that opportunity, my king.”</p><p>Bruce shook his head. “You deserve more than that, son. So?”</p><p>Dick nodded once, slowly, and then again and again, faster each time. </p><p>Bruce laughed. “Jim!” he called out. “I need a horse!” </p><p>...</p><p>There were two kings and a queen in the courtyard, and they’d come prepared to fight, Damian could tell. There were fierce female warriors that dressed in the queen’s colors. There were strong men and women in the blue and red of the man Jason whispered was King Clark. And then there were warriors who moved so fluidly it was like watching a shadow shift on the ground. Those warriors were dressed in the dark colors of whom Tim whispered was King Bruce.</p><p>He couldn’t see them well, hidden behind Tim and Jason, pressing his face in the gap where their arms brushed together, but he didn’t need to see well to recognize the fourth person standing beside the royals. Because that was <em> Dick. Dick, </em> wearing King Bruce’s colors. Dick, hurt, but <em> safe! </em></p><p>Damian clenched his hands in the back of Jason’s and Tim’s tunics, stunned and excited. </p><p>He missed the words being exchanged between the royals and the count, but he caught the disbelieving look on the count’s face when he saw Dick, caught the anger that grew on the man’s face, which was never good. Damian and his brothers always suffered whenever the count got mad.</p><p>Whatever the royals said next caused the count to curse loudly, oily schmoozing turning to vehement protests. </p><p>“Guards!”</p><p>“Pull your weapons, and you’ll all be arrested!” King Bruce’s words rang throughout the courtyard following the count’s call.</p><p>Damian slowly edged his head out from around Tim to see. The king had his hand on his sword as he looked around at those who had gathered. His eyes flashed over to Damian and his brothers, and Damian ducked back behind Tim and Jason, heart pounding wildly. </p><p>“For crimes against the crown, Roman Sionis, you are hereby stripped of your money, land, and all of your holdings. Your title is removed. Before the end of the year is out, you will stand trial both here in Gotham and in Metropolis for your betrayal against both kingdoms. Jim, Montoya, take him into custody.”</p><p>Jason and Tim were trembling. Damian could feel it where his hands rested on their backs. Damian...Damian didn’t know <em> what </em>to do, what to think. The count was being arrested. Dick was standing with royalty. </p><p>No, Dick was limping to them, as quickly as he could go, after King Bruce had turned to him. There were more words from the royals to the people of Sionis’ court who had gathered and to his guards—many of whom did not work for the count by their own choice. But Damian didn’t care; Damian didn’t listen. </p><p>As one, he and Tim and Jason ran forward to meet their brother. Damian had been so scared he would never see him again, had woken from nightmares where Dick’s face had faded from his memory. He’d obsessively sketched him on precious scraps of paper every time he’d woken from those terrors. And he was <em> right there! </em></p><p>They flew into him, slowing and softening at the last moment in respect of how he was obviously injured. Slade, and Sionis before him, had been...so cruel to him.</p><p>Damian and Tim and Jason wrapped themselves around him, and Damian wasn’t ashamed of the tears that fell down his face as he beamed up at his oldest brother. He wasn’t nearly the only one crying. Jason had silent tears streaming down his face, while Tim was hiccuping little sobs, and Dick...Dick was weeping even as his face was stretched with a wide smile.</p><p>“Little birds,” he said as reverently as a prayer. “My precious little birds. I missed you so much!”</p><p>Damian burrowed his face into Dick’s stomach. The last time he had hugged his brother, Dick’s hands were bound so he couldn’t return the embrace. Now, however, Dick’s arms wrapped around them, encompassing and drawing them closer. </p><p>None of them spoke for the longest time. There was movement and noise in the courtyard, but whatever was happening didn’t matter to Damian. </p><p>“You’re in trouble, Jason,” Dick finally said, voice light. “You used the ace in your sleeve for me, and not for one of you.”</p><p>“There was no choice,” Jason said. “We weren’t going to leave you with Slade. And it looks like the rest of us didn’t need the ace.”</p><p>“Hello, boys.”</p><p>“My king!” Jason and Tim exclaimed. It took them a second, but they unwound from Dick to drop in a deep bow. The king greeted his brothers, and out of the corner of his eyes, Damian saw him actually fold his brothers in a <em> hug.  </em></p><p>Damian, face still buried in Dick’s torso, couldn’t move. His brother chuckled and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “Little Dami, you need to bow to our king.”</p><p>Damian knew he needed to. He was being disrespectful to a royal, especially one who had been kind to his brothers and saved Dick.</p><p>
  <em> He’d saved Dick. </em>
</p><p>For that alone, Damian owed him his life. The least he could do was bow, even if he didn’t want to let go of his brother. He nodded and slowly pulled away. Ducking his head, suddenly uncomfortable with the tears on his face, he quickly bent to pay his respects. </p><p>“So this is Damian,” he heard the king say. “Stand, child. I’ve been looking forward to meeting….”</p><p>The king trailed off when Damian straightened. His face went slack, wide eyes latched on him.</p><p>He looked like he had seen a ghost. </p><p>…</p><p>When the king breathed a curse, Damian flicked his eyes to Dick and back, uncertain and scared. </p><p>“Who is your mother, child?”</p><p>Dick tilted his head, looking from Damian to the king. His confusion over the question quickly faded. Truthfully, he’d been so blinded with his own pain and fear and <em>worry, </em>and then with his hope and shock that his brothers were going to be free, that he had not had time to even note the similarities between the two. But seeing them next to each other now, Dick was no longer oblivious to them. </p><p>“I…” Damian stuttered. “I don’t….”</p><p>His youngest brother could pass for the king’s son.</p><p>“Who is your mother? Tell me!” the king ordered, what Dick read as anger and shock making him loud and forceful.</p><p>Damian shrunk back, and Dick stepped in front of him. The king flinched back at the motion, his eyes widening. Slowly, Dick knelt before the man. </p><p>“Please, Your Majesty. He was too young to know his mother’s name when he was left with the count. I can describe the man who left him with us, if that would suffice. I understand you may be unhappy with the lack of knowledge. In that case, I offer my body in place of his to ease your irritation.”</p><p>He’d hoped…. He had hoped the king would be different. In the short time he’d been in the man’s company, he’d been kind and gentle. From the stories Tim and Jason had told, he had never come close to raising a hand to them. But Damian’s likeness to the king seemed to have put him over the edge. </p><p>Biting back a groan, he lay prostrate in front of the king, resolutely ignoring his disappointment. It wasn’t the first time Dick had been wrong; it wouldn’t be the last. He could hear Damian’s panicked breathing behind him, could hear Tim and Jason’s deliberately slow breaths. </p><p>“Bruce?”</p><p>“Not now, Clark. Clear the area.” The king sounded as though he was a little more in control, though something still made his voice shake. Rage, maybe?</p><p>The second king ordered the bystanders to clear the area, which was followed by the pounding of footsteps as the guards and other workers fled. Oh, Dick had a feeling this was going to be a bad punishment, but that was okay. Dick had been through bad before. Sionis was sadistic, and his short time with Slade had proven that both of Dick’s masters had shared that particular trait.</p><p>He started distancing himself from the pain already present; acknowledged his brothers would see him humiliated, but reminded himself they would love him no matter what. Besides, his humiliation didn’t matter. Keeping his brothers safe did.</p><p>“Please sit up, Dickie.”</p><p>Dick did not dare look at the king when he spoke, simply pushed himself up to kneel again, keeping his head bowed. The whipping post he was so well acquainted with was but across the courtyard. Perhaps the king wanted him to walk there. </p><p>With a sigh, the king shifted, until Dick saw folded legs in his line of sight. He was sitting. On the ground. Like he had the night before.</p><p>“I apologize. To both you and Damian. I am not angry; I am surprised. Shocked, actually.”</p><p>Dick kept his gaze focused on the ground until gentle fingers on his chin lifted his face. He flinched, no matter the soft touch.</p><p>“I truly am sorry. Forgive me?”</p><p>“Of course, Your Majesty,” he murmured immediately. He knew the script well. </p><p>The king twisted his lips together. He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, his shoulders rising and falling with the action. “Make yourself more comfortable. You’re injured.” Dick obligingly sat back and criss-crossed his legs. “Good. Now. Will you tell me about the man? Who left Damian with Sionis?”</p><p>“He wore a long robe that was green and gold, and he had dark hair, with gray stripes at his temples. There was a gold blade at his waist, and he traveled with a group that was dressed all in black.”</p><p>“Ra’s al Ghul,” the king said quietly. No one asked, but he explained. “Ra’s is an emperor in the west. I spent time in his kingdom about nine or ten years ago.” </p><p>He bent his head, and Dick took the opportunity to check on Damian. The boy was hanging on to the king’s every word, a furrow between his eyebrows as he listened. </p><p>Another sigh came from the king before he looked up and gestured for Damian to step forward. Nervously, the boy edged closer, peeking at Dick out of the corner of his eye again as he stood beside him.</p><p>“Your mother’s name is Talia.” </p><p>Damian jerked in surprise. “You...you know my mother, Your Majesty?”</p><p>“I loved her. We were to be married.” The king stretched out his hands, holding them palm up and waiting. Slowly, Damian placed his trembling hands in his, something like awe and hope on his face. “But her father did not approve. Had I not left his kingdom, with your mother’s blessing, I would have been killed.</p><p>“Damian, please know. Had I known she was pregnant, I never would have left her. I never would have left <em> you</em>, my son.”</p><p>Dick’s littlest brother flinched, his mouth falling open. “You think…. I’m your...?”</p><p>The king let go of Damian’s hands, only to cup his face. “My son. My <em> son. </em>I am so sorry for what you have faced these last years.”</p><p>“He really is a little prince!” Jason said, awe filling his voice. </p><p>Damian turned to look at them, pale and unsteady. He was searching their faces, looking for a cue as he so often did when he was uncertain and scared. But Dick’s little brother never needed to be afraid again. He was a prince. He was <em> safe. </em>And his father was a king that seemed fair and kind, despite his understandable outburst. He had, after all, just found out he had a son.</p><p>Slowly, Dick shifted until his legs were folded beneath him. Arm bracing his ribs, he knelt forward until his forehead rested on the ground and then placed both of his palms flat on the pavement. </p><p>“My prince,” he said, lips lifting when Damian gasped. Rustling to his right told him Jason and Tim were both following his lead, kneeling and bowing in honor of their new royalty.</p><p>“No!” Damian cried. </p><p>His little feet pattered closer, and Dick felt his fingers grabbing and pulling to lift Dick from his bow. He disappeared for a moment, moving to Jason and Tim to urge them to straighten, before returning to Dick, who still kneeled. In but a moment, Dick found himself with a lap full of the new prince, his youngest brother whom Dick so adored. </p><p>“I don’t want it! Not if it means <em> this! </em>You aren’t less than me. None of you are.” Fingers made for art and music, forced to scrub and scrape and work to the bone, framed Dick’s face. Blue eyes with a tint of green stared earnestly into Dick’s own, wide and tearful.</p><p>Feeling his own eyes fill at the distress Damian was feeling, he leaned forward to brush his nose against Damian’s. </p><p>“My prince, you deserve the world,” he said softly, “and you finally get to have it. I love you so, little Da...my prince.”</p><p>If anything, his words only served to make Damian’s tears break free. </p><p>“No. <em> Please.” </em>He twisted to look back at the king, who had a tender expression on his face. </p><p>“Come here, children. Sit.” He patted the ground around him. Jason and Tim immediately dropped to sit while Damian carefully leaned his back into Dick’s chest. </p><p>“I had planned to wait until we had all been able to eat and rest, but I don’t think anyone will truly be able to relax until I fill you in on some of the plans I’ve been working on since Jason helped himself to the food at my gala.”</p><p>Jason ducked his head, face tinted pink. Dick smiled at the sight, stretching out a hand to ruffle his hair. </p><p>“I would like you each to join me at my castle,” the king said.</p><p>“It would be our honor to serve you, Your Majesty,” Dick murmured. He couldn’t help himself from nuzzling into Damian’s hair, wanting to show his love for his little brother freely for but one more minute. Before it would be taboo for a slave like Dick to handle the prince in such a manner. Grief twisted his face, but he quickly tucked it away from the others’ eyes.</p><p>Tim and Jason both murmured their assent, but the king shook his head. “You misunderstand me. I wish to make you my sons. Each of you.”</p><p>Dick couldn’t breathe. He must have heard wrong. The king...why would the king want them for his children? They were servants, kids who were orphans or deserted by their own family. And then Dick nearly flinched when he realized the offer would not be for him. <em> Couldn’t </em>be for him.</p><p>“I’m not sure I understand, my king,” Jason finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. Tim’s hand, Dick saw, had drifted over to Jason’s, looking for comfort. Dick mourned that he was not close enough to help bolster the boy, but he was so very proud of Jason when he immediately clasped the other boy’s fingers. </p><p>The king leaned forward to brush his hand across Jason’s cheek. “You stole my heart the first time I laid eyes on you. And then you told me about your brothers, and I met Timmy.”</p><p>The king carded his fingers through Tim’s hair and smiled. “My partner in crime. My heart belonged to you, too. I regret,” he said, looking Dick in the eyes, “not being able to meet you or Damian before this, regret meeting you when you were suffering under a different monster’s control, Dick. But I didn’t need to meet either of you to love you.</p><p>“Your brothers talked constantly about you both. My heart has belonged to you, Dickie, and you, Dami, and you, Timmy, and you, Jaylad, since that very first moment.”</p><p>The king hesitated for only a second before he cupped Dick’s cheek. He savored it, for it would be the last time to happen. “I don’t know you yet, but I love you. Each of you.” The hand slipped down to cup Damian’s cheek next.</p><p>“I would be honored to call each of you sons. So. What do you say?” His voice wavered on the last word, nearly imperceptibly. </p><p>He was nervous, Dick realized. The king was <em> nervous </em>about their response. </p><p>“You are not jesting, my king?” Timmy asked quietly. “For if this is a joke, I beg pardon, but I do not see the humor.”</p><p>“Oh, Timmy.” The king pulled him into his arms, to their shock. Tim gaped up at the king where he was nestled in his embrace. The man bowed his head to press his lips to Tim’s forehead. “You and Jason have been a light in my old castle since you crossed my path. Your stories of your brothers have entertained me and warmed my heart.</p><p>“Partner, I would <em> never </em>joke about something this serious.”</p><p>Tim’s face collapsed, and he sobbed, turning to burrow into the king and clutch at his fine robes. Dick’s stomach twisted—the king’s clothes! He was going to ruin….</p><p>The king pulled Tim even closer and when Jason shifted, held out an arm to welcome him into the hug. Jason fidgeted for a long moment before he threw himself into the man’s arms. Damian, wrapped in Dick’s embrace, leaned forward, and Dick...could not keep him from his father. He let go, aching, because that would be the last time he was allowed to hold him. </p><p>Damian took a step towards the king and then hesitated, but the king bestowed a gentle smile on him and nodded. The boy curled into Jason’s open arm and leaned into his father. His <em> father. </em>Dick was so happy for him.</p><p>Tim craned his head around to see him. “Dick?” For all his tears, there was a bright grin on his face. He beckoned for him to come closer, and Dick closed his eyes for a long moment. </p><p>“This isn’t meant for me, little birds.” A tear fell down his face, and he swept it away quickly, forcing his lips up in a smile. “But I am so happy for you all.”</p><p>“What do you mean? Of course this is meant for you!” Jason’s face was twisted in what was definitely a pout, even if he would deny it.</p><p>Dick shook his head and pressed his trembling lips together. “No. You don’t realize, brother. I don’t blame you—so much has happened.”</p><p>“What do you mean? What don’t we realize?” Damian demanded, pulling away from the king to face Dick.</p><p>“Being sold to Slade was Sionis’ gift to me. My birthday gift.” He covered his face and slumped into himself. “I am 18 and no longer a child able to be adopted.” </p><p>His brothers gasped; Jason’s soft “<em>Oh, Dickie,” </em>was heartbroken and cracked.</p><p>So close. He’d been so <em> close </em> to having a family again—a legal one, at least. So close to being a part of something with his brothers that would have been more than pain and humiliation and degradation. His face hidden from his brothers, he didn’t hold back the tears. After everything that had happened, he <em> couldn’t </em> hold them back. </p><p>Warm, gentle hands landed on his shoulders, startling Dick. They were larger than his brothers’. He snapped his head up, only to find the king had moved closer to him, that it was <em> his </em>hands Dick felt. </p><p>“I am the king,” he said simply. “If I want to adopt someone fifty years older than I am, I will do so. If I want to adopt <em> you, </em> then with your permission, I will. I meant what I said; I would be honored to call <em> each </em>of you sons.”</p><p>He smiled, His Majesty Bruce Wayne smiled, and it was real and a little crooked and full of so much hope that Dick’s breath caught<em>.  </em></p><p>“But I’m...I’m just a….”</p><p>“No. You are not <em> just </em> anything. Your brothers could tell you that. For the short time I’ve known you, <em> I </em> can tell you that you aren’t <em> just </em>anything. I am impressed by your character, by your ability to smile even when you feel like doing anything but. I am impressed by your kindness and care for your brothers. You, Dickie, are amazing.”</p><p>Tears fell thick and fast down Dick’s cheeks, and the king carefully wiped them away. “What do you say, angel?”</p><p>He nodded once, slowly, and then breathed, “Yes. <em> Yes</em>.”</p><p>Without meaning to, his hands curled into the front of the king’s robes, clutching tightly. The king’s smile impossibly grew even larger. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and Dick found himself mirroring the expression as his fear was swept away and joy filled him. The king, soon to be his <em> father, </em>wrapped his arms around Dick and pulled him into a hug.</p><p>It had been <em> years </em>since he last felt the embrace of a parent, and he gasped and burrowed even deeper into the man’s hold. It was only moments later that his brothers joined in the hug, Timmy giving a breathless laugh that Dick could count on one hand that he had heard since they’d met.</p><p>He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, the five of them huddled together, but when Dick shifted the smallest amount after his wounds made it known they weren’t happy, the king immediately pulled away.</p><p>“Your injuries. Let’s get you all inside. Which way to the guest quarters?”</p><p>“The….” Jason trailed off, blinking at the king. “We have a room. That you can take him to.”</p><p>The king stood, cradling Dick in his arms in a way that left him near tears again. He felt <em> treasured </em>for the first time since his parents had fallen to their death. He closed his eyes to take a careful breath. He’d already broken down once; he didn’t need to do it again. </p><p>Funny. He’d gone through an eight hour session with Slade that had him weeping from pain, but that was an involuntary response. Emotionally, he hadn’t shed a tear in front of the man. But now, here, with this king who had been kind to him and his brothers...each kind gesture from him had Dick ready to break down. </p><p>“Then lead the way, my sons.”</p><p>Ah, and there he went again. Dick covered his face to hide the tears that coursed down his cheeks once more. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, shaking his head.</p><p>“It’s okay, son,” the king said softly. “You've been strong for so long. Let me help shoulder the burden. You’re not alone. And you never will be again.”</p><p>…</p><p>The king took one look at the room Jason shared with his brothers and immediately shook his head. “No. Guest quarters. Show me where they are.”</p><p>“My king?”</p><p>“No. You can grab your belongings after you show me where the guest rooms are, but none of you are ever sleeping in that closet again. Understood?”</p><p>Jason looked at the others in confusion. </p><p>“Jaylad.”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Please.”</p><p>Jason stepped forward and led the way through the manor, taking them out of the cellar to the top floor. Jason’s favorite, whenever he’d had the chance to help clean the bedrooms, were the ones that faced the sunrise. One room in particular had floor to ceiling windows that offered warmth to its inhabitants, in addition to sweeping views of the manor grounds. He went there, first.</p><p>Besides the beautiful view, the bed was lush, and if the king was looking for a good room for Dick to recover in, this was the best. </p><p>“How is this, my king?”</p><p>Bruce hummed his approval and crossed to gently lay Dickie on the bed. The sigh his brother gave as he finally rested made Timmy laugh. Face crinkling in a smile, Dick patted the space at his side, and the three of them climbed up next to him.</p><p>“We need to talk about something else.”</p><p>The four of them froze. </p><p>“You keep calling me ‘my king’ or ‘Your Majesty,’ but you will be my sons before the week is out. You may call me Bruce. Or, it’s probably too soon to say, but I…. If you want, you can…. I would be honored, again, if you...chose to call me Dad. Or Father. You don’t have to! But the royal honorifics are not necessary.” </p><p>He was nervous again, just like he’d been in the courtyard. He didn’t need to be, for Jason and every single one of his brothers rode cloud nine as they realized the king was going to be their father. </p><p>“You will each be princes.” The king swept his fingers through Damian’s hair, tapped the tip of Tim’s nose. “I know it will take a while to set in, but you, my sons, are royalty.”</p><p>Prince Jason. Prince Damian. Prince Tim. Prince….</p><p>He choked on a laugh, startling them. </p><p>“Jason? You okay?”</p><p>Dick sounded so worried, and it made Jason feel kind of, sort of, guilty because, “Prince Dick.”</p><p>He bent over with another laugh, his older brother’s long-suffering face only making him even more amused.</p><p>“Hysterical,” Dick said, voice dry as kindling. “Truly. Some of your best work.”</p><p>His brothers pitched in, Tim with a giggle, Damian with an amused huff.</p><p>“Traitors,” Dick mourned, but there was a twinkle in his eyes and a grin hidden in the dimple on his cheek. He poked Jason in the side, making him squawk and jerk away. </p><p>He flushed and grumbled under his breath while the king looked on in wonder. </p><p>“You’re ticklish!”</p><p>“Am not!”</p><p>“Oh, he most certainly is. The side of his neck is the most ticklish,” Dick tattled, while Jason looked at him in betrayal.</p><p>“How could you?” he asked, jumping off the bed when the king’s fingers suddenly headed towards his neck. </p><p>“Karma sucks, doesn’t it?”</p><p>His brother looked so content, so happy, laying there and watching them that Jason couldn’t begrudge him this moment of joy. Though when the king decided to <em> give chase, </em>Jason decided he’d have to pay his older brother back in some way. </p><p>Laughing until he was breathless while the king tried and failed to catch him, feeling freer than he had in ages as he was surrounded by his brothers and his <em> new father, </em>Jason was coming up blank. But he would get Dickie back. And Timmy and Damian who weren’t even trying to help him, just laughing at him! </p><p>Heck, maybe he’d tell the king where they were ticklish, too. That’d teach them.</p><p>...</p><p>“Look, Timmy, I’m telling you. Alfred’s not here. <em> This is our chance.” </em></p><p>“B. Bruce. King Dad. We are not going to get away with this. He may not be here, but <em> he will know.” </em></p><p>“Tim. Timmy. Partner. I am the <em> king. </em>If I want to raid the kitchen before dinner for something sweet, I am going to raid the kitchen before dinner for something sweet. Even Alfred himself, as much as I love him, would not be enough to stop me.” Bruce opened the door to the kitchen, looking back and down at Tim. </p><p>The child had one hand wrapped in Bruce’s, and Bruce could not help the way a smile continually stretched his face. That was his son in heart, if not yet on paper. </p><p>“Is that so, my king?”</p><p>Bruce froze. Tim looked wide-eyed up at him. Slowly, <em> slowly, </em>they both turned their heads to see Alfred. A tray with several steaming mugs waited on the counter in front of the man.</p><p>“I made you hot chocolate, but if that’s truly your thought process, son, then I’m not sure you deserve it.”</p><p>“Alfred! When...when did you get here?”</p><p>The older man cocked an eyebrow at him, and Tim…. Laughter filled the kitchen, bright and carefree and absolutely beautiful. Arms wrapped around Bruce’s middle, and he watched Tim in something like wonder as he buried his laughter in his stomach. </p><p>Alfred, when he tore his eyes away to look, had a wide smile on his face. Bruce curled his arms around Tim and pulled him closer.</p><p>“I just arrived, sir,” Alfred said as he paused in front of them, tray in hand and his smile wide. “I thought a little treat might be in order. Perhaps you can lead the way to the rest of my grandsons?”</p><p>Bruce inhaled deeply at the words. Joy filled his whole being. “It would be my pleasure, Dad.”</p><p>FIN</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please forgive my delay in posting the second chapter. </p><p>Thank you again for all of your wonderful support for this story!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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